


We Could Be

by winterwaters



Series: We Could Be [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Bellamy, Did I mention the fluff, Drinking, Drinking Games, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, I said I wouldn't do this but I should have known, Movie Nights, POV Multiple, Slow Burn, aka ch 20 and on, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 97,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. A peek into a couple years at college where Bellamy and Clarke slowly get to know each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was so resisting a mulit-chapter fic, but these two disagreed. I'm hoping to update somewhat promptly, since I do have a storyline in mind, but sometimes I just like writing little moments, so it might wander a bit. Also, I'm a big fan of the slow burn, so expect that haha. Hope you enjoy :)

Clarke yawned for the third time that morning, her eyes flitting to the clock by her bed again. 9:37. Fuck. She was barely going to be on time for cell bio. _Again._ The night shifts at the hospital hadn’t seemed like such an awful idea a few weeks ago, especially with the extra money they would bring. But right now, as she pulled on the first shirt she could find and prayed it didn’t smell, she was seriously questioning her state of mind.

Stumbling around her room, she threw her books in her bag. Where the hell was her laptop? Right. In the living room where she’d fallen asleep yesterday afternoon. Awesome. She ran into the hall, grabbing the Mac and shoving it in with her books. Turning, she made for the kitchen.

And ran smack into a bare chest. The startled yelp ripped from her throat before she could even register anything else.

“Whoa, princess.”

Clarke looked up into the familiar dark eyes of Bellamy Blake. They were trained on her in amusement as he raised an eyebrow. His hands were warm where they gripped her waist.

“In a rush, are we?”

“I’m late,” she answered automatically. “Wait. Why are you here? And so…” _naked_. She gestured to his undressed state, annoyed with the heat creeping up her neck. Why should she be bothered by a bare chest? She’d seen many shirtless guys before - the hospital was full of them. So was the med school’s morgue. 

But most guys were not Bellamy Blake, her brain reminded her, resuming the flush with a vengeance. She cleared her throat and stepped back, and his hands dropped to his sides. Bellamy was oblivious to all her thoughts - _god, she hoped he was_ \- as he smirked. 

“I _was_ taking a shower, but I forgot my towel.”

“Why are you showering here?”

Now his forehead scrunched. “Octavia didn’t tell you?”

Clarke’s mind raced through the rushed conversations she’d had with Octavia in the past couple of days. _Had_ she mentioned her brother? She had no idea. Her face must have said as much, because he sighed and rubbed his neck, the confidence suddenly fading. He looked a bit nervous, actually. It was rather endearing.

Endearing? Clarke shook her head. _I must be really tired._

“Refresh my memory?” She requested sheepishly.

“I needed a place to crash for a few days and O suggested I stay here and take the couch. Plus she’s usually at Lincoln’s anyways.” He made a face at Lincoln’s name and Clarke bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. He was _such_ a big brother.

Bellamy still looked a bit worried. “Sorry. I thought she would have cleared it with you first. I don’t have to-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Clarke said hurriedly. His eyebrows lifted skeptically and she rushed on. “Really. I don’t mind. I’m barely here as it is, and when I am I’m usually studying or sleeping.”

“Yeah, about that - what are you still doing here? I thought you had a shift today?”

How did he know her work schedule? Clarke dismissed the thought quickly. “I did, but I switched with another girl to take her night shifts for a few weeks when my class schedule changed.” 

“Ouch.”

She shrugged. “The life of a pre-med.”

“But you love it.” He didn’t pose it as a question, like so many others did. It was just a simple statement, and for some reason that warmed her.

“I do.” Clarke smiled.

“Good. You should like what you do.”

She wondered why he sounded like he was repeating someone else’s advice when he said it. Then her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall behind him and she gasped. “Fuck! I have to go.”

“See you later. Roomie.” He grinned and ducked when she threw a pillow at him.

But she was still smiling as she slipped out the door. Only when she reached the bottom of the steps did she look down and groan, knocking her head softly against the wall.

Her bare feet twitched against the carpet as she dragged herself back upstairs to find shoes.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Bellamy Blake_ is your new roommate?”

Raven’s voice echoed in disbelief through the empty quad. Clarke only nodded, her head still buried in her book as they sat on the grass. She’d read the same sentence four times now, but Raven didn’t need to know that. Out of habit, she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Of course, her friend plowed forward, all thoughts of studying put aside.

“Oh my god.” She cackled. “I wonder who’s going to give in first.”

Clarke finally looked up and narrowed her eyes. “Come on."

Raven poked her. “No, _you_ come on, Clarke. He’s charming, beautiful, got a jaw that could cut glass-”

“Cocky, impulsive, unpredictable,” she cut in.

“I don’t see how any of those are bad things.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and shoved her friend. “Then _you_ do something about it.”

“No thanks. Been there, done that.”

The words took a minute to sink in. When she looked over in surprise, Raven shrugged, though she was very steadily picking the petals off a flower and not meeting her eyes. “We were lonely and drunk and depressed. Shit happens. Happened. _Once_ ,” she emphasized. 

Clarke tried to wrap her mind around that. “When?"

"A long time ago,” came the quiet reply.

“You never told me…”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I knew how you felt about him. And I didn’t want to lose the only friend I had.” Raven smiled ruefully, finally looking up. Clarke sighed and threw an arm around her shoulder, hugging her close. The whole Finn disaster had only produced one good - _amazing_ \- thing, and that was her and Raven's friendship. She wasn't about to throw that away over a one-time event.

"You can’t get rid of me that easily.” She grinned. “So was he any good?”

She wiggled her eyebrows at Raven, who wagged hers right back. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

“Ugh, shut up,” she groaned. Raven was undeterred.

“Seriously though, when you two aren’t biting each other’s heads off, you kind of get along pretty well. Things have been different with you guys lately. Haven’t you noticed?”

Clarke _had_ noticed, but she wasn’t about to admit it out loud. There were many reasons for her and Bellamy's tumultuous relationship.

"And when you _are_ yelling,” her friend continued blithely, “it’s pretty hot.”

Clarke snapped her book shut and put her head in her hands with a groan. “You are unbelievable.”

“God, can you imagine running into him all the time?” Raven continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “In such close quarters you’re bound to have some awkward moments.”

A flush rose on Clarke’s face as she thought about that morning. Well, that was true enough. She ducked her head, attempting to hide behind her hair, but Raven was no fool. Her eyes bulged and she grabbed her by the shoulders.

“No! Spill!”

“There’s nothing to spill!” She said weakly. “He was taking a shower and forgot his towel so he came out as I was leaving."

“Wait wait wait.” Raven held up her hands. “Bellamy Blake was standing in front of you _half-naked_ and about to take a _shower,_ and you _left?”_ She screeched. 

“I was late for class!” Clarke protested.

Raven howled with laughter, doubling over on the grass. Clarke rolled her eyes and opened her book again. She’d gotten to the section about gene mutations when the laugh finally faded into soft giggling. Her friend wiped a tear from her eye.

“You must be a saint, Clarke.” She shook her head in awe.

“Again, not a saint. Just very, very late. Hollinger already has her eye on me. I need her on my side if I’m going to get a recommendation letter from the committee.”

“Hollinger’s an old bat, and everyone who doesn’t say so is definitely thinking it.” Raven dismissed her with a wave. “You’re beloved by the entire biology department, Clarke. Even _I_ know that and I'm not even in the freaking major. Anyone who doesn’t give you that letter has to have their head checked out.”

Clarke smiled in thanks, adding another orange post-it to her textbook.

“Bellamy Blake,” Raven murmured again. “Damn. I give it three days.”

“Three days for what?”

Her friend sent her a devilish grin. “Three days before you jump his bones.”

“ _Raven!_ ”

“Two days before he jumps yours,” she added helpfully.

Clarke stood and swung her bag over her shoulder, her face crimson. “I’m leaving now.”

Raven’s laughter followed her all the way to genetics lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to have a few flashback chapters sprinkled throughout before I focus more on the day-to-day moments :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First flashback!

_~~~One year ago~~~_

Clarke wandered through the party aimlessly. The beer in her hand was already getting warm, and the condensation forming on the bottle made her grip slippery. She was going to kill Octavia for making her come. Their conversation flashed through her head again as she headed down another hallway.

_“Please, Clarke. Just this one time.”_

_“How is me being there going to help?”_

_“Come on. I really want to see Lincoln but I don’t want to go alone because then he’ll think I came _just_ for him.”_

_“But you _are_ going just for him,” Clarke protested._

_“Yeah, but we’re not really dating yet - well, we had one date and one not-so-real date - so I don’t want him to feel awkward, and plus I don’t even know if…” her friend chattered on quickly until Clarke held up a tired hand._

_“Fine.”_

_Octavia squealed and threw her arms around her, making her smile despite everything. “Thank you thank you thank youuuuu,” she sang._

_“Just for the record, there is no doubt that he’s crazy about you. I don’t care how many dates you’ve been on, the guy looks at you like you hung the moon.”_

Her friend had beamed and skipped off to get ready, while Clarke had shuffled to her closet and prayed to find a pair of heels and a nice shirt. As expected, when they got to the party, Octavia was swept away by her not-real-boyfriend Lincoln, and now Clarke was alone.

Rounding the corner, she ran right into a broad chest. 

“Shit, sorry,” she mumbled. She put out a hand, trying to keep her balance in the godforsaken heels. The bottle in her hand wobbled but didn’t fall. 

“Princess!”

She groaned. Of course he was here. “Hi, Bellamy.”

He shook his dark hair out of his eyes and leaned against the wall, drink in hand. “What brings you to this soiree?”

“Your sister. Didn’t you know she was coming?”

“O’s here?” His brows drew together and for a moment she thought hurt flashed through his eyes. But it was gone in seconds. “Must have just missed her.”

Clarke nodded and turned to retrace her steps, but he simply fell into place next to her. “So what, she left you to the wolves?”

She shot a glare at him sidelong, making for the small outer porch. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will, princess.” He chuckled and took a swig of his drink.

Clarke sighed. She had no idea what to make of Octavia’s brother. He was handsome, of course, but he was also cocky, condescending and reckless. And he never stopped calling her princess, for some damn reason. But there were times she’d seen him with Octavia, and he was simply a big brother, ruffling her hair and giving her big one-armed hugs and smiling so widely she wondered who this stranger was. So she couldn’t figure out why, when he was surrounded by so many guys - and girls, always girls - the lonely look never seemed to disappear from his eyes. She’d recognized it the moment she met him. It was the same one she’d learned to mask from everyone else. But then he’d go and say something inherently stupid and she’d get mad all over again. It never failed.

Stepping onto the deck, she sighed as the cool breeze rushed through her hair. Everything in the house had been too stuffy, too hot and cramped. This was what she needed. 

Leaning on the railing, she looked over at Bellamy curiously. “Why do you always call me princess?”

He blinked slowly, long lashes touching his cheek before he raised his eyebrows. “Because you are one,” he said. “Daughter of the famous Abigail Griffin, head of neurosurgery at Williamson Medical. Burgeoning apprentice. Beloved by all.”

The bitterness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by her, and she drew up to her full height (plus the three inches the heels gave her). 

“What is that supposed to mean?” She said sharply.

“Nothing. Just stating the facts.”

“Then why’d it sound like you were accusing me of something?”

When he didn’t answer, she moved closer. “What, you think I got where I am because of my name? Because of my mom?” She poked his chest with every accusation. “That I’m just some spoiled little princess, is that it?”

Bellamy’s dark eyes studied her, but still he was silent. It infuriated her. “Let me tell you something, Bellamy Blake. I know life has been hard for you and your sister. I get that. But just because you’ve had a rough time doesn’t mean you get to judge everyone else from afar. You know nothing about me. What I’ve lost.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she stopped to take a deep breath.

“What have you lost?”

His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. For some reason, it made her want to punch him. He was not allowed to mock her one second and suddenly care the next. No.

“None of your concern,” she said as haughtily as she could. For good measure, she stomped on his foot with her heel, satisfied by his growl of pain as she turned and marched away.

After that, Clarke went to great lengths to avoid being in the same room with him, and he did the same. She’d given Octavia the shortened version - _your brother’s an ass_ \- as her explanation. Octavia had merely sighed and rubbed her temples, but hadn’t said anything else. Clarke refused to feel guilty for the sad look in her eyes, the look that said she’d missed something important. 

To her immense satisfaction, on the rare occasion she and Bellamy did end up sharing a room, his eyes automatically flitted to her feet, gauging her choice of shoes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> present-day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback! Glad to hear you're enjoying this :) I'm playing around a bit with the structure, trying to go back and forth for the next few chapters. We'll see how well that works...

Bellamy hopped up the last few steps, pulling his earbuds out as he dug in his pocket for the extra key Octavia had given him. Wondering why the music hadn’t stopped, he checked his shuffle in confusion. It was off. Then he looked at the door in front of him, hearing the beat thump through the wood, and a smile stretched across his face. 

Inserting the key in the lock, he pushed the door open carefully to see Clarke’s laptop on the coffee table. Music blared from the speakers. Spare notes and bright mulit-colored highlighters littered the couch. Moments later, Clarke came in from the kitchen. She was bobbing along to the music and tapping a pen on her leg in time to the beat as she silently mouthed the words. A bowl of dry Cheerios was in her hand _(honey nut, if he had to bet)._

He grinned and shut the door behind him with a snap. She nearly dropped the bowl in surprise. Setting it down with a sheepish smile, she lowered the music volume.

“Hey.”

“By all means, continue.” 

She rolled her eyes but curled up on the couch, and he suddenly wanted to make sure she wasn’t too embarrassed. “Seriously. You’ve got good taste.” He tapped the laptop as he passed by, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You like Tegan and Sara?”

“I didn’t say I liked them. But I can appreciate good music.” He let his heavy bag thud down by the chair. “I have pretty varied taste. As long as it’s not NSync, I can be probably be persuaded.”

A surprised laugh escaped her. “NSync?”

“Did you forget who my sister is?” He held up a hand. “And don’t even ask if I know the difference between them and the Backstreet Boys, because _do I ever._ ” The smile on her face widened as he went on. “I had to listen to her argue - very specifically, I might add - about why they were not the same thing. Many, many times.”

Clarke dissolved into delighted giggles. “That totally made my day. My week, actually.”

He shook his head and grabbed a few Cheerios _(ha! Honey nut)_ before dropping into the armchair with a sigh. She pushed the bowl closer to him.

“Long day?”

He nodded, already feeling his eyes drifting shut. She was observant enough not to ask further. But she did move her things over to the other side of the table. He opened his eyes briefly when she tapped his knee and motioned for him to stretch out his legs. He smiled in thanks, propping his feet up. The music volume increased again, and he settled deeper into the cushions, his head lolling to the side. He was asleep in minutes.

~~~~~~~~

The next time his eyes opened, Octavia was standing in the living room. Her arms were crossed in front of her and there was amusement dancing in her eyes.

“And here I would have thought the house would burn down.”

Bellamy blinked, rubbing sleep from his eyes as a huge yawn escaped him. His sister grinned widely. Shifting, he looked over and saw Clarke fast asleep on the couch. Her lips were parted and every time she took a breath, a strand of hair on her cheek rose and fell. She was still holding a highlighter in her hand. She was… _cute._

He shook his head to clear the thought and looked back at Octavia, who was watching him curiously. Standing, he pointed at her room and she followed.

As soon as the door closed, she said, “That was quite cozy.”

“Come on, O.” He ran a hand through his hair, fighting another yawn.

“I’m just teasing, big brother. Although I couldn’t resist taking a picture.” She grinned when his eyes widened. “Don’t worry. I’ll send it to you.” 

Bellamy groaned good-naturedly before pulling her into a hug, which she returned tightly.

“How are you?” Her question was muffled by his shirt.

“I’ll survive. What about you?”

“I’ve got some papers and a lab exam next week but other than that, good. Oh! Lincoln’s got a showcase coming up and I was wondering if you wanted to come? Pleeeeease? It would mean a lot.”

He knew she thought he didn’t like Lincoln. It wasn’t that - not anymore. He could see now that the guy was great for her. But she would always be his little sister, and sometimes he just couldn’t get around that in his head. So he smiled and nodded. “Of course I will.”

“Great. I’m making Clarke come too. I’ll send you details once it’s official.”

“Alright.” This time the yawn burst out, and Octavia raised an eyebrow.

“You might be as bad as Clarke. Are you sleeping okay on the couch? You know you can always take my bed if-”

“I’m fine, O. Really. Just had a busy 24 hours. Once I have a full night’s sleep I’ll be good as new.”

She pursed her lips, studying him. “Fine. But I’m watching you.”

“Right back at you.”

She smiled and made for the door. “Come on, let’s go wake up sleeping beauty.” When he hesitated, she tilted her head in question. “What?”

“Nothing, just… she looks really tired. Maybe we can let her sleep a bit longer?”

Her expression softened. “Clarke’s always tired lately. Sometimes I think she pushes herself too hard. But it might be what she needs right now.”

“The whole Finn thing really messed her up, huh?”

“I didn’t know you knew about that.”

He shrugged. “I heard things. I work at the Ark, remember? Drinking tends to loosen everyone’s lips.”

Octavia’s eyes were hard. “She deserves better.”

Bellamy couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he said, “Tell you what. Let’s order pizza and you can pick a movie, and then we’ll wake her up. Does she have shift tonight?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

She smiled and hugged him. “Thanks, Bell.”

He didn’t let go right away. “Have you… have you told her anything about why I’m here?”

“No, of course not. I just said there was a maintenance problem and you needed a place to crash for a while.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do,” she murmured guiltily, and he tapped her shoulder. 

“Hey, none of that. I’ve already got a couple of guys asking about sublets in the area. I’ll find something soon.”

“Not too soon. I feel like I barely see you lately.”

Bellamy hugged her close. “We’ll fix that, too.”

~~~~~~~~

When Clarke awoke, Bellamy and Octavia stood in front of her with identical Cheshire cat smiles. 

“Hi sleeping beauty,” Octavia chirped.

“Hey.” Her sleepy eyes flitted between the two of them with caution and Bellamy had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh. Damn, she _was_ cute.

“You,” his sister pointed at Clarke, “are going to relax tonight. No more studying.”

When Clarke opened her mouth to protest, Octavia shook her head firmly. “You’re outnumbered two to one. Plus I hid all your stuff.”

Clarke looked around wide-eyed at the empty couch and table. “Octavia-”

“Relax. You’ll get it back in the morning.” Octavia held out the large square box in her hand. “Now, don’t you want some pizzaaaa?” She sang invitingly. “Or maybe you want the pepperoni one that Bell’s holding?”

Clarke looked like she was fighting a smile. “Is this an ambush?”

“Yes,” they answered promptly. Now she did smile, raising her hands in surrender. Octavia grinned and high-fived Bellamy.

“She’s picking the movie,” he told Clarke. He set the pizza box on the table, watching her immediately lift the lid to snag a piece. Satisfied, he settled into the armchair. “What’s it gonna be, O?”

“Redbox sucked today.” She was crouched on the floor, hooking her laptop into the TV. “Let’s see what Netflix has.” Within a minute of browsing, she raised her arms with a triumphant shout. “Yes! Cabin in the Woods, here we come.”

Bellamy looked at Clarke. “Have you seen it?”

His sister answered first. “Nope,” she crowed gleefully. Bellamy grinned.

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this.”

A little over an hour later, Octavia was fast asleep against the couch cushions. Clarke sat next to her, her eyes glued to the screen. Empty paper plates and napkins littered the table. 

Bellamy was watching her more than he was watching the movie. She was like a little kid, her wide blue eyes taking in every single detail on the screen. Her mouth hung slightly open in permanent suspense. He could practically see the gears shifting in her head as she tried to figure out the puzzle before the movie revealed itself. It was highly entertaining. And incredibly, quite sweet.

Clarke caught him looking once or twice, and the second time she sent him a questioning glance. He shrugged.

“I thought you’d be the one asking questions every minute,” he said by way of explanation.

To his surprise, she smiled. “I used to be, when I was little,” she admitted. “Then my dad…” her voice stuttered slightly before recovering, “my dad told me that movies were about enjoying the moment, so I was allowed to turn off my brain. He said if I still had questions when it was over, then maybe those were the ones really worth asking.” There was a fond look on her face as she repeated the words from memory.

“Sounds like a smart guy,” Bellamy said softly. “You must miss him a lot.”

“I do.” Her voice was full of longing, and he didn’t say anything else. He knew all too well what that was like. But Clarke brightened quickly, her voice thoughtful. “But I think I’ve managed to build something of a second family here, you know? And it doesn’t change what happened, but-”

“It helps with the bad days,” he finished, and she smiled gratefully.

“Exactly.”

The screen flashed as the action picked up and Clarke scrambled to grab the remote, rewinding a few minutes. Then all her attention was devoted to the movie, and Bellamy grinned and did his best not to watch her. (It didn’t work.)

They sat in comfortable silence until the movie finished. Clarke gaped for a full minute as the credits began to roll, and Bellamy tried and failed to stifle his laugh at the outraged look on her face. As she shook Octavia awake, berating her for picking a movie with such an “obnoxiously unsatisfying” ending, Bellamy found himself wondering if maybe she considered him part of her extended family, too. He secretly hoped that she did - or that he at least had time left to earn a spot he hadn’t realized he very much wanted until now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback time!

~~~ _Seven months ago_ ~~~

“Hold the elevator!”

Clarke ran for the doors, shaking rain from her hair as she skidded inside. An arm shot out to keep the doors apart long enough for her to get inside.

“Thanks.” She looked up gratefully and found herself face to face with Bellamy. His eyes dropped to the floor. Her mood soured instantly. Taking a few steps back, she leaned against the wall opposite him, cursing her luck and trying to wring the rainwater from her hair. 

“What floor?” He asked curtly.

She glanced at the buttons and saw ten was already lit up. “Ten’s fine,” she mumbled. She couldn’t help but wonder why he was headed for the professors’ offices, too.

They were both quiet as the elevator began its ascent. Clarke couldn’t remember an elevator ride that had ever taken this long. Bellamy leaned against the wall, his eyes firmly on the changing numbers above the doors. It stopped at six, the doors sliding open for several moments. Nobody walked in. Bellamy pushed the button irritatedly until they finally closed. Then there was a large _boom_ , and they were both thrown to the side as the box jolted. 

Then, silence.

They looked at each other. Clarke was the first to speak. “What was that?”

“Hell if I know.” He pressed the emergency call button, all the door buttons, to no avail. None of the floor buttons would light up, either. Clarke held up her phone and cursed.

“No signal.”

He checked his. “Me either.”

“Great.” She slid down against the wall until she was sitting, letting her bag thud to the floor beside her.

Bellamy went to the doors, trying to jam his fingers inside and pry them open.

“If it was an electrical outage, that won’t work,” she said tiredly. He didn’t answer, just kept trying to feel around the doors for anything to grip and pull. She tried again. 

“You don’t want to do that. If the power comes back on while your fingers are in there you’ll just get hurt.”

“You just have all the answers, don’t you princess?”

“No, I just understand basic electricity,” she snapped back. “Unless you’re secretly The Hulk, nothing is going to open those doors until the power comes back on.”

He banged his head softly against the metal with a heavy sigh before mimicking her position against the opposite wall. Clarke rubbed her eyes and yawned. Opening her bag, she took out her notes from yesterday’s lecture, popping off the cap of a highlighter with her teeth. If she was going to be stuck here, she’d at least make good use of the time.

A glance upwards told her Bellamy was simply sitting with his eyes closed, but she wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep. He certainly looked tired enough. Octavia had mentioned he’d been feeling shitty all week. Not that she cared or anything. 

Slowly, the coughing began. At first, it was only once or twice, almost a clearing of the throat. Then it became a hack. It continued in earnest, eventually stringing out long enough to make him shudder. Clarke dug around in her bag and pulled out a bag of cough drops, sliding it over to him.

He grunted in thanks, taking two before sending it back to her. She thought he needed more than two, but she figured he didn’t particularly care for her advice. After another string of coughing, she felt compelled to say _something._

“You should get that checked out,” she said.

“I’ll be fine,” he said gruffly. _Of course._

“Suit yourself.”

They were quiet again up until the moment Clarke’s phone rang, startling them both. She scrambled to answer.

“Raven?”

“Hey! I can barely hear you, where the hell are you?” Raven’s worried voice drifted through the speaker.

“We got stuck in the elevator in Tanner. What’s going on?”

Of course, Raven latched onto one word. _“We?”_

“Yeah. Me and… Bellamy.”

There came a low whistle. “Wow. Bet that’s cozy.”

This time, the cough that came from Bellamy may have been smothering a laugh. She wasn’t sure, but she did _not_ want to have this conversation right now.

“Raven,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just tell me what the hell is going on out there?”

“They’re saying it was a power failure that affected multiple buildings. The storm did something to a few power lines and-” static garbled her remaining words.

“Raven? Hello?”

More static, and then: “I’m here, I’m here. God. My service sucks.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I’m stuck in Meyers right now but I’ll try to find out what I can,” her friend promised. “Hang tight.”

Clarke ended the call with a sigh, letting her head thud back against the wall. “Power failure. Something about the power lines and a grid and the storm,” she muttered.

“Go figure.” Bellamy grimaced. “The one day I need to hand in extra credit. That’s what I get for waiting til the last day.”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Yeah. Finished the paper last night.”

Clarke thought back to conversations she’d had with Octavia. “You’re a history major, right?”

He looked surprised. “Minoring in English lit. I need this grade to help balance out the fact that I’m barely going to pass stats.”

“Ew.” Clarke wrinkled her nose. “Statistics sucks.”

“No argument here.” After a moment, he asked, “Why’re you headed up there?”

“We had an exam last week in bio and I wanted to go over the questions I got wrong. I just can’t seem to wrap my head around a couple things.”

“Sounds tough.” He wasn’t mocking, just reflective.

She shrugged. “It is. But I love it.”

“Because of your mom?" At her sharp glance, he amended hastily, "I mean, did she introduce you to all that stuff?” He asked it very carefully, as if expecting her to bite back.

She still couldn’t help but tense up, after their last (and only) conversation involving her mother. But she also felt the need to make him understand. “Yeah, she was always taking me to work with her when I was younger, so I got pretty used to hospitals. Plus she was like my hero, you know? She would walk into a room and then whoever was hurt wouldn’t be hurting anymore. I wanted to be just like her.”

Clarke stopped, feeling like she’d said too much. But Bellamy was only looking at her kindly.

“It’s nice that you had someone to look up to,” he said. There was a note of sadness in his voice that she decided not to comment on.

Instead she said, “She was also pretty hard on me when she had to be. She understands better than anyone what it takes to get to where she is. So she never let me get complacent about it, either. It’s always been hard work.”

“I’m sure it has.” He held up a hand when he saw her face. “I mean it. You live with my sister, Clarke. I hear about your work ethic very often. Plus, O wouldn’t like you otherwise. She doesn’t particularly appreciate spoiled brats.”

“You two seem to have that in common.”

Something akin to guilt flashed across his features. Her stomach chose that moment to emit a loud growl, and she bit her lip. Bellamy grinned faintly and unzipped a pocket of his bag, reaching inside. “Think fast,” he said, and tossed something her way.

She opened her hands to find a granola bar. “Thanks,” she said in surprise.

As she unwrapped it and began to munch slowly, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. His brow was scrunched in a way that told her he was weighing something thoughtfully. She decided to leave him to his thoughts, rifling through her bag for the stack of post-its she knew was in there. As she finally yanked them out, another paper drifted out, fluttering to the floor by Bellamy’s feet. Clarke scrambled for it, but Bellamy was faster.

She held her breath as he studied the paper, dark eyebrows knitting together as his eyes scanned the rough pencil sketch. 

“Is this the skyline?”

She nodded. “A bird’s eye view. As if you were flying overhead.”

“You did this?” 

Another nod.

“This is really cool. I didn’t know you did this kind of stuff.” 

She shrugged, playing with the highlighter in her hands. “My dad was an artist. I used to play with his paints and things all the time. When I got older, he’d let me use his studio whenever I got frustrated with… everything else.”

Clarke couldn’t quite believe she was telling this to Bellamy Blake of all people. But for whatever reason, the words had tumbled out one after the other, as if this steel box was some strange bubble of alternate reality. But Bellamy didn’t look surprised or condescending. He just seemed to understand that she didn’t need a reply. His eyes traced thoughtfully over every line, and she could see his mouth turn up when he found familiar landmarks. He finally held it out, placing it in her outstretched hand. 

“Obviously his talent passed on to you,” he said softly, and it was a moment before Clarke could speak again.

“It’s not done yet. I still have to ink it and fill it with color, though I can’t decide if it should be pastels or paints-”

Clarke stopped abruptly, realizing she was rambling. She tucked the paper safely back into her bag and looked up to find him watching her. “It’s just become more than a hobby. Something to keep me….” 

“Sane?” He finished knowingly. At her surprised glance, he smiled. It suddenly occurred to her she’d never really seen him smile, not the stupid charming one he threw at everyone, but the relaxed, honest one that was now being sent her way.

“I love music,” he admitted a moment later. “Everywhere I go, anything I’m doing, I usually have music on. It’s almost like an old friend. Sometimes I’ll play it if I can.”

“You play an instrument? How did I not know that?”

This time she got a wry smile. “Well, this _is_ the longest conversation we’ve had in about four months, so... “

 _And whose fault is that?_ She bit back the retort at the last second, but she may as well have said it. They were both thinking the same thing.

But instead, he said, “I play guitar. I don’t own one or anything - not yet. But one of the guys at work is in a band, and I let him use some of the space for storage. He lets me fiddle around with one of his older guitars until I can save up enough to buy it from him.”

“That’s great. I would love to know how to play an instrument.”

He shook his head. “No way. You’re not allowed to be wonderwoman. Gotta leave something for the rest of us.”

She stuck out her tongue instinctively but grinned nevertheless. They sat in an amiable silence for a while, and Clarke nearly laughed at how the day had turned out. Never would she have thought she’d end up having a real conversation with Octavia’s brother.

“Life is weird,” she said softly.

Bellamy nodded. There was that look again on his face, the one that made her think he was wrestling with something. When he looked up and caught her watching, he ran a hand through his hair and decided to say it.

“Look, I know we don’t see eye to eye very often-”

She scoffed, making him roll his eyes.

“ _-but,_ ” he drawled pointedly, “for O’s sake, do you think we could try to at least deal with each other?”

When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m just saying, I know she’s already feeling stretched thin between me and Lincoln. Add you in, and it’s just a lot to take. I don’t want to stress her out further, if we can help it.”

Clarke had noticed that, too. All too often she’d felt like she was playing tug of war, except this time it wasn’t a rope in the middle, but Octavia. And she definitely felt guilty about it. She toyed absently with the empty snack wrapper while she thought. So far she and Bellamy had managed to hold a relatively civil conversation. Hell, it had actually been kind of nice. It was entirely possible that they could repeat it in the future, wasn’t it? For Octavia.

“I’m willing to try.” Cautiously, she held out a hand, and he shook it. 

“Deal, princess.”

She groaned. “Can you please stop with that?” 

“Come on,” he grinned. “Just give me that one.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“I still can’t believe you both came out alive,” Octavia laughed. They were sitting on the couch that night in their pajamas, drinking hot chocolate and studying. Clarke was munching on a bowl of dry Honey Nut Cheerios, and now she threw one at her friend.

“Shut up.”

“Come on. Can you really blame me? You two have been at each other’s throats for months now. I’m allowed to be excited at this development.”

Clarke sighed and rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. She had to admit, she was relieved, too. In avoiding Bellamy, she’d started unintentionally avoiding her best friend as well. She’d missed her dearly. Plopping her book aside, she put an arm around Octavia.

“I spent over an hour in a box with your brother and survived. Which means we can probably deal with being in the same room now. And that means I get to see you more.” She smiled.

“I see you everyday,” Octavia replied.

“I guess. But it hasn’t been the same lately, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Octavia was quiet for a moment before laying her head on Clarke’s shoulder. “Thanks for giving him a second chance, Clarke. I know he’s not always the easiest to get along with-”

Clarke huffed.

“-but,” she continued, “he does his best. You have to understand, when we were growing up he usually shielded me from the ugliness in the world. So he tends to trust a lot less easily, just because he was always the one dealing with other people’s crap.”

“People like me, is what you mean,” Clarke said quietly.

“Clarke,” Octavia shifted and met her eyes. “It’s just hard for him to see that not everyone is like that, that’s all. He’s had to deal with some pretty shitty things.”

“That still doesn’t give him the right to judge off the bat,” she argued, and Octavia held up her hands.

“I know that. But it’s just a defense mechanism. It takes him a while to really let his guard down. I swear, once you gain his trust, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”

“I believe you. Just don’t expect us to be best friends.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> up all night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the chapter that really got me thinking about this story in the first place. I really enjoyed writing it, hope you like it! :)

Clarke rolled onto her back, sighing in irritation as she stared up at the ceiling. The days and nights were beginning to blend together lately, and she was powerless to stop it. Even with her exhaustion from the day, her mind was somehow too restless to turn off when it came time to sleep. The night shifts hadn’t particularly helped. If anything, they’d encouraged her to remain awake.

When her stomach growled, she threw off her covers in annoyance. _If I’m going to be up, I may as well enjoy it._ She pulled her door open and stepped into the hall, making her way to the living room. Octavia was at Lincoln’s, so she had the apartment to herself. She absently tugged at a thread on her sweatshirt. Just as she was wondering what old movie might be on TV tonight, the couch came into sight.

Bellamy lay stretched out on his back, hands behind his head. His eyes were wide open as he stared up at the ceiling much like she’d been doing moments before. _Shit._ She’d totally forgotten. Clarke paused, debating if she should just slip back into her room. But by then he’d already noticed her and sat up cautiously.

“Clarke?”

She waved sheepishly. “Hey.”

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, fine. I just- when I can’t sleep, I usually come out here and watch TV. But I forgot you were sleeping-”

“I wasn’t asleep.” 

She hesitated, bouncing on her toes. Her stomach chose that moment to growl spectacularly. Bellamy’s laughter was loud and bright in the empty apartment. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his mouth stretched into a knowing grin, and Clarke felt herself returning it. He stood and stretched before brushing by her into the kitchen. She followed curiously, her bare feet quiet on the wood floor. He was digging around in one of the cabinets, finally retrieving his prize with a quiet, “ha!”

Clarke peeked over his shoulder and laughed. “Popcorn?”

“Best midnight snack ever, princess. Just you wait and see.”

He put it in the microwave before turning to her with a raised eyebrow. “I _know_ you two have a stash of movie candy.”

She grinned and went to the other end of the kitchen. Setting a knee on the counter, she heaved herself up, her fingers brushing against the very top shelf until they closed around two boxes. Bellamy chuckled behind her as she eased down and handed them over.

The microwave beeped, and as he took the bag out she found a large bowl. He emptied in half the bag, then to her surprise, opened a box of the movie candy.

“Buncha Crunch? Really?”

“Really.” He grinned and emptied the box over the popcorn before dumping the remaining contents of the popcorn bag over it. Then the second box of candy was thrown in as well, and he held up the bowl proudly. Clarke shook her head but took a handful anyways, throwing some in her mouth. 

She looked up in amazement. “Oh my god, you’re a genius.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

He grinned as she swatted his arm and took the bowl, heading back to the living room. She sat down with a sigh, tucking her bare legs under her. Bellamy sat next to her, reaching for the remote.

“So what’s on tonight?”

“They usually have good reruns on TVLand. Or sometimes an old movie,” she said wistfully.

“How old are we talking? Black and white?”

“Sometimes. My dad and I used to watch all the oldies together. I kind of love them, you know? They just don’t make them like they used to. And the sitcoms, god. I miss the audience laugh tracks.”

She kept munching on the popcorn mix, her hands lingering in the bowl as she searched for extra chocolate. Bellamy noticed and grinned. Taking her hand, he dropped a few pieces of candy into her palm with a knowing look.

“Where did you even get this idea anyways?” She pointed at the bowl and his gaze returned to the TV as the channels flipped by.

“Octavia. We didn’t really get to go to the movies too much as kids, so I used to pretend our living room was the theater. We’d turn off all the lights and close the blinds. She picked the movie, always,” he said fondly. “I would microwave a ton of popcorn and we’d sit on the couch wrapped in blankets. I used to go to the dollar store and get all these boxes of movie candy beforehand, and eventually we just started mixing it all together.”

He stopped abruptly as if he’d said too much. Clarke only smiled and bumped his shoulder. “That sounds really nice. Better than any stuffy old theater with the cramped seats.”

“And tiny aisles.”

“The little projector that breaks halfway through.”

“The asshole checking his phone.”

They both chuckled until Clarke caught a glimpse of something on the TV.

“Wait, wait, go back!” She curled a hand over his to press the button on the remote. The picture reappeared and she beamed.

“Yes! Married With Children. Told you.” She settled back against the cushions with a happy sigh. 

“Oh man,” Bellamy laughed. “O loved this show. Well, she loved Peg Bundy’s hair.” He turned up the volume before kicking his feet up on the coffee table. 

They watched in contented silence as Peg Bundy berated her husband for some reason or another. Clarke was only half paying attention. With Bellamy so close to her in the dark, she suddenly found herself very distracted. The flickering light from the television cast shadows on his face, accentuating the sharp angle of his jaw, his high cheekbones, the smattering of freckles. Now and then he would smile, truly smile, his mouth curling up and changing his face entirely. Clarke ended up watching him from the corner of her eye instead of watching the TV. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep. 

When she woke, she was stretched out by herself on the couch covered in a thick blue blanket. The TV was turned off and the nearly empty bowl sat on the coffee table. The first rays of the sun were filtering through the curtains, but the stillness told her it was still very early. Blinking away her sleep, she shook her head and yawned hugely. 

“Bell?”

He popped his head out of the kitchen, a strange look on his face before it was quickly masked. “Hey.”

Clarke scrunched her nose, sniffing the air. “Do I smell coffee?”

He disappeared again. “Come and see.”

She untangled herself from the blanket and plodded to the kitchen. Sure enough, the coffeemaker was on. Bellamy was digging around inside the fridge.

“You guys have no food,” he grumbled. “How do you live?”

She lifted a menu off the fridge and waved it in his face.

“There’s this thing called takeout.” 

He snatched it from her hand and tapped her nose. “There’s this thing called cooking.”

“Never heard of it.” She grinned and leaned against the fridge as he kept digging through the cabinets. Finally she said, “There are waffles in the freezer, if that helps.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “That will have to do. I don’t suppose you have any syrup?”

“Seriously? Have you ever met Octavia?”

He laughed. “Touche.” 

Clarke took the box out, popping the waffles in the toaster and retrieving the huge bottle of syrup before going to brush her teeth. She returned just as Bellamy was filling two mugs with steaming coffee. With a grin, she took the jar of sugar and set it down next to him with a thump.

She shrugged at his questioning look. “Sweet tooth, right?” 

He nodded, still a bit surprised, and she smiled shyly before taking the waffles out onto a plate. He was looking at her in a way that suddenly made her very aware of her tiny sleep shorts and lack of a bra under her sweatshirt. She had goosebumps in the very best way. She was nervous as hell.

“So there was this one show Octavia loved when she was younger,” Bellamy said. “I think it’s called 8 Simple Rules. Do you know it?”

“The one with the girl from The Big Bang Theory?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And Peg Bundy. Who’s now Gemma on Sons of Anarchy.”

“I love that show!” she exclaimed.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Raven had gotten her into it, and despite being outwardly skeptical, she’d found herself far too invested.

He shook his head, grinning, and she propped a hand on her hip. “What?”

“Nothing, just… that’s awesome.”

“I am pretty awesome,” she agreed, and his laugh settled over her warmer than any blanket. But he didn’t argue either, and the goosebumps remained throughout the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flashback!

_~~~5 months ago~~~_

Clarke dropped the last few papers in the filing cabinet, shutting it with a final click. The emergency department had been dim and quiet on this Saturday night, and she was relieved. She’d been volunteering and working here long enough to know that this wasn’t always the case. The nurses sat at their stations finishing paperwork or drifting in and out of patient rooms as needed.

She rolled her neck and shoulders, trying to relieve the soreness after being hunched over the desk for the past hour. Her mind flicked through the small flashcards that she’d been making for Wednesday’s exam. _Beta receptors receive what type of molecule?_

Before she could answer, she heard shouting coming from the desk where the clerk sat. The voice was familiar, and she found herself running.

“Please, it’s my sister- I don’t know what’s wrong-” 

Bellamy stopped as Clarke skidded into view. He looked at her through the glass in desperation, his eyes wide and panicked.

“Clarke,” he breathed.

She pushed through the double doors and went to his side. “What is it? Where is she?”

“In the car. I had to pull up outside. I don’t know-” His voice broke again, and she grasped his shoulders.

“Okay, okay. Bellamy. Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go get a nurse and we’ll bring her in, okay?”

Clarke flew back inside to find Tanya, asking her to keep a bed ready. Tanya was efficient and focused, and one of her favorite people in the world for her brilliance and no-nonsense attitude. Clarke knew she could count on her. Running back out, she took Bellamy’s hand without thinking. “Let’s go.”

He pulled her outside, his grip shaking. “I thought she was asleep,” he said. “When I noticed her shivering I got a blanket, but her forehead was burning up. She said she threw up a few times before I got there.” 

They ran to where his beat-up gray car was pulled up to the curb. Octavia was lying on the backseat, her eyes closed.

“When I pulled up I thought she wasn’t breathing,” he whispered, and Clarke squeezed his hand before rounding the car to fling open the door. He leaned in from the other side, a knee on the seat as he put his arms around her. “Hey, O. It’s me.” The tenderness in his voice made Clarke’s throat tighten. 

Clarke placed a hand on her friend's head, finding it clammy with sweat. Her fingers trailed to press at the base of her neck. Her pulse was low, very low. “If she threw up that much, her blood sugar probably fell pretty fast. That’s what made her so weak,” she explained. “And whatever she has just took over.”

Octavia mumbled incoherently, her eyes fluttering, and Bellamy looped her arm around his neck before gently pulling her out of the car. He carried her inside where Tanya had made up a room. Once he settled her onto the bed, Tanya gave Clarke a look, and she nodded. Placing her hands on Bellamy’s chest, she pushed him back gently until they stood in the doorway. His worried gaze remained on Octavia as the nurse began to do her first checks.

“Bellamy,” Clarke brought her hand to his cheek to make him look at her. “I need you to wait outside.”

When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head and plowed forward, keeping her voice low and calm. “I know you want stay. But it’ll be easier for them to do their job without you hovering. You did good by bringing her here, Bellamy. She’ll be okay. And then you can hover all you want.”

She smiled, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly to hide the pain she felt at his lost expression. He didn’t resist when she took him by the arm and lead him outside, guiding him to a chair. “I’ll be right back,” she said, but his hand tightened around hers.

“No. Stay with her. Please, Clarke.” His eyes pleaded with her, and she nodded.

“Okay. I’ll let you know as soon as you can come back in, alright?”

He sank a little deeper in to the chair, looking so forlorn that she suddenly wanted to take him into her arms and promise it would be okay. But she settled for grasping his fingers tightly before heading back inside.

An hour later, she and Tanya stepped outside the room and peeled off their gloves. Octavia’s temperature was finally stable and she’d stopped shivering as much. Clarke carried the few tubes of blood over to the small chute. Opening the container, she dropped the labeled tubes inside along with the bright slip of paper that indicated priority tests. Snapping it shut, she pressed the keycode for the labs and the small box shot up the chute. They were fairly certain it was a particularly nasty strain of the flu, but Tanya had drawn some blood just to be sure. 

Clarke went to find Bellamy. He sat hunched over in the waiting room, his hands clasped in front of him and head bowed. As soon as she walked out the door, he leapt to his feet. The look on his face said he expected awful news.

Clarke grasped his arm. “She’ll be fine. No more throwing up, very little shivering. I got her extra blankets and she’s asleep now.”

The change in him was remarkable. His entire body sagged with relief, and he put his head in his hands for a moment.

“What happened?”

Clarke hesitated only a second. Usually it wasn’t her job to answer that question. But for Bellamy, she made an exception.

“It’s likely the flu. It must have just hit her hard because she’s already so tired and stressed out. The nurses just want to run a couple tests to be sure. But she’s already got some medicine through the IV.”

He exhaled heavily. “She’s really okay?” he asked again.

She smiled. “Yeah. Really. I'll-”

The rest of her words got muffled by his shirt as he wrapped her in a tight hug. She stood uncertainly in his grip, her arms hanging stiffly by her sides. His chin rested on her shoulder, his lips by her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her skin when he whispered, “Thank you.”

Clarke felt her throat close up and she only nodded against his chest, her arms looping around his back to hold him tight. 

When Bellamy pulled away, she motioned for him to follow her through the double doors, hastily wiping her eyes on her sleeve. He trailed behind her until they stood in front of Octavia’s room. Clarke eased the door open and they stepped inside quietly. Bellamy immediately went to his sister’s side, his eyes taking in every detail.

“There’s so many tubes,” he said quietly.

“Just a precaution,” she reassured him. “Plus, she needs the fluids. It’s easier through the IV instead of making her take pills. And the medicine takes effect sooner this way, too.”

“Okay.”

He dropped onto the stool, his head resting on the soft mattress as he gripped his sister’s hand. Clarke adjusted the blankets and checked her temperature one more time before slipping outside. She leaned against the wall with a sigh. The clock on the wall read 4:23. On a hunch, she headed for the small on-call room. Sure enough, the coffee pot was sitting there unused. She started a fresh pot while she filled a water pitcher for Octavia. 

Bellamy looked up when she tiptoed back into the room, his weariness turning to surprise when he saw her hands full. He stood and took the pitcher from her, placing it on the bedside table. Clarke held out the small cup of coffee to him and dropped a few sugar packs on the table.

“I wasn’t sure if you take milk or anything, but I can-”

He shook his head. “No, this is good. Thanks.” To her surprise, he shook three full sugar packets into it and took a large gulp.

She couldn’t help her smile. “Sweet tooth?”

“You have no idea.” 

The door opened again and Tanya stepped inside with several papers in her hand. 

“Hi there. Do you have a few minutes to look over these? Just some documents we need you to fill out for the hospital.”

Bellamy nodded and took the papers, but Clarke saw his brow furrow as he flipped through them. 

“I can walk you through them,” she heard herself say. When they both looked at her, she shrugged to hide her own surprise. “A lot of the fields are optional. I’m the one usually filing them so I can tell you off the bat what’s required.”

Tanya smiled and left them alone. Clarke pulled a chair over to where Bellamy sat by the bed, gently taking the forms from him. Slowly, she went through each one, marking with a pen what was needed immediately.

When she got to the insurance forms, he shook his head. “Won’t be needing those.”

His eyes were defiant, daring her to ask. So she only nodded and moved on to the next one. But after she’d left him to fill out the remaining papers, Clarke went straight to Tanya. Just because Bellamy was too proud to admit it didn’t mean she was okay with watching him incur a high hospital bill. Especially when it could be avoided. You just had to know how.

She conversed quickly with her friend and mentor, who knew the ins and outs of the billing system better than most. The older woman stepped away to make a few calls, returning with good news. Clarke gave her a quick hug in thanks before popping back into Octavia’s room.

“Hey. We’re going to move her to another room. You can come too.” 

Bellamy didn’t question it, not until they arrived in the much tinier space. Clarke busied herself with untangling Octavia’s blankets and fluffing her pillows while Tanya finished hooking up the IVs to the new machines. The space was a bit cramped, but it would do. It wasn’t actually meant for a full bed, but Clarke decided Bellamy didn’t need to know that.

His eyes landed on her questioningly after Tanya left. “Why do I feel like this wasn’t just because they needed the space?”

Clarke chewed on her lip, ducking down to adjust the bed’s slant. When she rose, she met his gaze levelly.

“This is one of our fast-track rooms. It’s usually meant for patients who don’t need a long stay and will be in and out. Technically, a patient is allowed to remain in here for up to 12 hours without being considered a full-time hospital admission. She can stay here until the evening, and then they’ll re-evaluate.”

She played with the edge of the blanket, peeking through her eyelashes to watch the news sink in. He was smart enough to understand the rest. No full-time admission meant no overnight bills from the hospital. The labs would bill him, but it was still a difference of an amount in the hundreds versus the thousands. And twelve hours of medication meant she likely could go home with a full course of antivirals afterwards.

Bellamy was looking at her strangely, and she suddenly felt defensive. “I swear, if you say anything about not wanting to accept charity, I will personally make sure _you_ end up being admitted upstairs,” she threatened.

A grin broke out on his face. “Is that so?” 

“Head wound. A big one.”

Now he did chuckle, and Clarke ventured a little further. “So you won’t argue?”

“Argue?” Bellamy shook his head. “Princess, you just saved me nearly a thousand dollars, maybe even more. The last thing I want to do is argue.” 

Clarke smiled, the awe in his voice making her flush slightly. Somehow, _princess_ hadn’t sounded so bad this time. “Good,” she said.

Leaving them alone, she escaped out the door and gave Tanya a thumbs up. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. It was Raven.

_You making it to comm lecture today? Want to get coffee before?_

Startled, Clarke looked at the clock. 6:48. 

_How are you even awake?_

_Had a paper for anthro. Blegh._

She grinned. She was about to agree when she looked back at the room where Bellamy and Octavia were. Biting her lip, she considered for a minute before tapping out her reply.

_Cover for me? You can borrow my lab notes later._

_Deal. Rough night?_

_Something like that._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last flashback!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates! other plot bunnies keep popping up, but I swear I have a lot of this story written out. Thanks to all who are still reading :) I really hope you like it!

_~~~Five months ago to a few weeks ago~~~_

Ever since that night at the hospital, there had been somewhat of a truce between Clarke and Bellamy. She’d skipped her day classes and stayed with the siblings while the nurses and eventually a doctor came in to check on Octavia. Afterwards, Clarke had translated anything Bellamy was unsure of. He’d given up all pretenses, soaking in any information she could give him.

And to her immense relief, she had been right. Octavia was sent home that night with a few prescriptions and careful instructions. Clarke volunteered to get the medicine while Bellamy took her home.

For many days after, their primary focus was Octavia’s health, to the point that they didn’t get in the way of each other. Clarke found that they actually worked rather well together when they weren’t arguing. Bellamy was efficient and focused, and when it came to his sister, nothing else got in the way. It resulted in several days, and weeks, that the two found themselves in the same room. And for once, she found herself not wishing she was somewhere else. Even Bellamy seemed a little less tense, though his worry for Octavia was always overpowering his thoughts. Clarke started to see more glimpses of the brother that Octavia had described for so long but that she hadn’t really met until now.

He did hover, much like a mother hen, and she had to admit it was quite sweet. Never in a thousand years did she think she would have called Bellamy Blake _sweet._

Before she knew it, exams had hit, and she found herself living mostly at the library with Raven. Octavia had fully recovered by then, enough to literally shove Bellamy out the door and join them there. Raven had raised an eyebrow at Clarke when both siblings plopped down on the floor next to their chairs, but Clarke had merely shrugged and gone back to studying. They were all scrambling to catch up on school.

When finals were over, it was back to her mom’s house for a few days - just enough time to do several loads of laundry, grab extra layers for the upcoming chilly weather, and say hi to Wells before it was back to the city, back to the grind. If she was honest with herself, she preferred it that way. The abbreviated break was also because of her schedule at the hospital. She’d picked up a few extra shifts before classes could really get rolling again.

Part of it was the desire to get as much experience as possible. She loved being at the hospital, watching the pros at work. She couldn’t wait until the day she was finally allowed to do more than make beds and file papers. But she also knew she was paying her dues, just like everyone before her had done. 

The other part of her decision came from a need to distract herself. Though she and Finn had broken up a while back, the ugliness reared its head whenever she had too much time to herself. The fact that he’d been cheating _with_ her on Raven never failed to make her gag. It made her feel gross and terrible and so unlike herself. Raven was good enough to snap her out of it, to make sure she remembered that _he_ was the scumbag (her words). 

But it didn’t change the fact that Clarke had put herself out there for the first time in a long while and gotten burned for it. And with their similar class schedule, it wasn’t like she could completely avoid him, either. The simple fact that she and Raven had become so close was enough of a deterrent most of the time. But she didn’t miss the glances or the whispers of their classmates. She was the other girl, and she absolutely hated it.

So she threw herself into everything other than relationships. Her work would be what defined her - not the rumors, not a boy, not even grades. Her work, her ethics, her applications - they would be her saving grace.

Clarke repeated this to herself as she rubbed her eyes at 4 a.m. Her shift was almost over, and she was exhausted. With a large yawn, she headed for the locker room where she’d shoved her bag earlier that night. Her phone buzzed with a text as she stepped inside. It was Bellamy. 

_Any chance you’re awake?_

She grinned faintly. He’d become used to her odd sleeping habits by now.

_Of course. What’s up?_

Expecting a text, she jumped when her phone began to ring. 

“Hey. Sorry to bother you so early.” He sounded just as weary as she was.

“No, it’s fine. Is everything okay? Is Octavia-”

“She’s fine.” He paused uncertainly. “I have a strange question.”

“Oh?” Clarke leaned against the lockers. “Hit me.”

“If someone drank a glass of beer and is now passed out, the beer didn’t do it, right?”

“What?”

He sighed. “There’s this guy who came into the bar tonight, had one damn drink and is now out cold on the floor. I mean I’m used to seeing big dudes laid out by alcohol, but it usually takes longer than this.”

“Well, everyone’s metabolism is different, so it’s hard to say, though if he’s a bigger guy that _is_ pretty strange…,” She thought for a moment. “Does he have any pills on him?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly search him.”

“That’s what the medics will do. I’m guessing you’ve called 911?”

“Yeah, Miller did. But there’s only one unit nearby and they’re responding to another urgent call first or something.”

Clarke could practically feel him rolling his eyes.

“Okay. Well he should be fine, but I would check in case he took a pill or something before drinking. That’s usually the fastest way to knock someone out. Did he order any food?”

“Nah, just munched on the nuts that were out on the counter.”

“So he only has liquor and god knows what else in his system.”

“Yup.” Bellamy sighed again. “Well, thanks for trying.”

“Sure. Listen, did you think about just getting him into a cab and coming here? It might be faster than waiting for the medics.”

He paused, considering. “Hang on.”

He shouted at someone to come over, holding a quick conversation before speaking into the receiver. “Are you still at the hospital?”

“Yeah. I can wait. It’ll be better if they know he’s coming.”

“Thanks, Clarke. Sorry about this.”

“No, don’t be. Text when you’re on your way.”

Clarke went to warn the nurses, who began preparing. It had been a quiet night, and everyone was pretty restless. Soon enough, her phone buzzed with a text and she headed out the double doors with a stretcher, Tanya on her other side. A yellow cab pulled up at the curb a few minutes later.

Bellamy jumped out of the passenger seat, thrusting a few bills at the driver. He nodded at Clarke as he opened the back door. A large man was sprawled on the backseat, out cold.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding.”

“Yeah.” 

Between the three of them, they managed to drag his body out and heave him onto the gurney. Clarke struggled to control her breathing as they wheeled him in. “How did you get him _in_ the cab?”

“I’d rather not relive it,” he muttered, and she had to hide her grin.

Once they’d gotten the older man inside and were checking his vitals, Clarke got her things and came out to find Bellamy in the waiting room.

“Still here?”

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure he’s alright.”

“He’ll be fine.” She raised an eyebrow. “They found some yellow pills in his jacket pocket.”

“Of course.” He shook his head before doing a double take at her bag. “So, you’re off now?”

“Yeah. My shift ended at four. Yours?”

“Five.” Bellamy looked at his watch. “5:30. Wow.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face before offering a wan smile. “Want some company on your walk?”

She blinked in surprise. “Sure.”

They walked outside into the cool morning. For a few minutes they were silent, but Clarke found it wasn’t overwhelming or unwelcome. Just a mutual comfort in being with each other.

“So how was your break?” Bellamy asked.

“Not too bad. More of a hit and run trip do do laundry, though.”

“Not many people you wanted to see?”

Clarke shrugged. “Only one, really. My best friend from high school. But he got home right as I was leaving, so we just had a quick lunch. And my mom was working most of the time.” She glanced up. “Did you go anywhere or were you working, too?”

“Nah, I stuck around. O stayed too, so we got to enjoy the empty campus for a couple days.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was. Sometimes- sometimes I feel like I miss her, even though she’s right here. But I’m glad she’s happy.” _With Lincoln._ It was unspoken, but Clarke heard it.

Bellamy paused as if he’d said too much, but she only smiled. “You’re a good big brother.”

He glanced at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in what she’d come to recognize as a self-conscious smile. As they got closer to her apartment, Clarke got the feeling he was having a debate with himself. His face was drawn and scrunched in thought. She didn’t interrupt, leaving the decision up to him.

Right as they reached her door, he touched her arm lightly and she stopped. Bellamy was bouncing on his feet, looking anywhere but her. He clearly wanted to say something.

“You know I don’t think you’re a spoiled princess, right?” he blurted out suddenly.

“Wh- what?” She stared up at his dark eyes, now locked on hers.

“I, uh- I don’t think you’re spoiled. I was wrong to say that. Last year, when you asked,” he clarified. 

Clarke was at a loss for words. 

Bellamy took that as a bad sign and rushed on. “I’m not just saying this because of what you did for Octavia. I should have said this a while ago. It just, I don’t know, it seemed appropriate at the time. I thought you were privileged and well-to-do… which technically _is_ true,” he defended meekly. “But you’re also much more than that. I know it was a snap judgment. It just surprised me how much it bothered you, and then you got mad, and it just became fun to push your buttons. Plus, I was a bit drunk.”

He stopped abruptly, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up wildly. “I’m completely messing this up, aren’t I?”

Clarke felt an astonished smile spread across her face. “Bellamy Blake is apologizing? I should be recording this.”

A nervous laugh escaped him. He shifted from foot to foot, unsure what to make of her words. Clarke couldn’t help but keep staring. This jittery, uncertain boy in front of her was _not_ the person she’d first met. And, she realized, neither was she.

“I think I forgave you a while ago,” she finally admitted, “whether I realized it or not. I was a different person last year. And you did make a judgment, but then so did I. I may have been looking for a reason to bust your balls.”

Bellamy’s shoulders drooped in relief. “I guess we both jumped to conclusions,” he agreed.

After a moment, he held out his hand sheepishly. Clarke only waited a second before placing her hand in his. 

It was oddly formal and strange, silly and freeing all at once. She had no idea what to make of the strange current that spiked up her arm as he grinned. When they let go, she rocked back on her heels, suddenly shy.

“So I should, uh…,” she gestured back at her apartment and he nodded a little too quickly.

“Right, of course. Me too. I’ve got class-”

“-a paper due-”

“-should probably clean up-”

They both stammered out some words and began backing away. And when anyone asked the rest of the day what they were smiling at, neither could quite give a proper answer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> back to present day from now on! still on the slow burn but I swear there will be some good ol'fashioned sisterly meddling coming soon.

“Hey Octavia, do you still have that medical ethics book I lent you?”

“Oh yeah, I think it’s on the bottom of my nightstand.” Octavia waved at her room, her eyes firmly on her laptop screen. She was sitting in front of the couch on the floor, her computer on the table at eye level. Bellamy had his headphones in and his feet up next to her.

Clarke got up from the armchair and wandered inside her room. “I don’t see it,” she called.

“Try the closet!”

She shuffled over in her slippers, yawning. Sliding the closet door open, she saw the book lying on the floor and grinned. Then she noticed everything else crammed inside the small closet and promptly forgot about the book.

Striding out into the living room, she stood in front of the two siblings with her hands on her hips. They both had identical puzzled looks on their faces that would have made her laugh if she wasn't so distracted.

“Who wants to tell me why there are two large suitcases in your closet? Labeled _B.B.?_ "

Octavia’s head shot up to look at Bellamy. A long glance passed between them and Clarke tapped her foot expectantly. Bellamy gave in first.

“Ease up, princess. I’ll explain.” 

Cautiously, she took a seat on the chair, folding her legs under her. She didn’t miss how Octavia was suddenly fiddling with her pen, or how Bellamy’s hand squeezed her shoulder.

“They’re mine,” he said. “My old place isn’t undergoing maintenance. I got kicked out. O’s been letting me camp out until I can find a sublet.”

Clarke’s jaw dropped. “Kicked out? Why?”

He sighed wearily, shifting on the couch, and Octavia spoke up. “You remember a few weeks ago, when I went to that big party at The Tavern?” Clarke nodded. She hadn’t gone with her because she was on shift, which she’d happily used as an excuse. “I stayed for a while but then it was starting to get crazy and I left to meet Bell. I was waiting for him outside when one of the guys came out. He was pretty drunk and, uh, he made a pass at me.”

“That’s not all he did,” Bellamy nearly growled, and Octavia squeezed his hand back.

“Anyways, I told him off but he didn’t listen. So I maced him.”

“I showed up right as it happened. There are some things you can’t un-see.” Bellamy shrugged, though his eyes were hard. “I gave him a shiner and a broken nose.”

Clarke looked between them. “What part am I missing?”

Octavia sighed. “The kid pulled some strings and got Bell evicted.”

“What?!” Clarke nearly stood up in outrage. “Who the hell is he?”

“Connor Dunlap.” 

She sat back against the cushions. “Connor Dunlap?” She echoed in disbelief. The guy was a complete prick. And he was richer than most of their class combined. His parents had connections she couldn’t even imagine. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Bellamy shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t think it would take this long to find another place. But I’ve got a few more showings next week. The guys at work are helping me out.”

She nodded. It made sense. And it hadn’t been intentional. Looking at Bellamy, she asked, “Do you mind if I ask around, too? Sometimes the med students will post sublets when they have to go on rotation each semester. It could help.”

He brightened. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Clarke.”

“Sure.” She retrieved the book from Octavia’s closet and sat down again. “For the record, I’m glad you went for Connor’s nose. He is far too proud of his face.”

Both siblings laughed at that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellamy was walking through the quad the next day when he saw two familiar figures in the distance. Raven was hanging onto Clarke’s arm, doubled over in laughter while Clarke merely smiled. But there was something so smug about it that he found himself needing to know more. She saw him first and her eyes widened a little, but he was already far too curious to stop heading in their direction.

“What’d I miss?” He asked as soon as they were close.

“Clarke is my hero,” Raven said, wiping a tear from her eye. “God, that was the best entertainment I’ve had all year.”

His head swiveled between them as Clarke looked anywhere but him. Her pride was fading into shyness, a tinge of pink blooming on her cheeks. He was intrigued.

“I can’t believe you did that to Connor,” Raven laughed again, and Bellamy nearly stopped breathing. Now Clarke was studying the hem of her shirt, deliberately not meeting his gaze.

“This girl,” Raven yanked on her arm, “deserves a freaking Oscar for what just happened. So we’re in chem lab, and that _dick_ is going on and on about the latest girl he laid and blah blah blah, and all of a sudden I see _her_ pass me with like three test tubes in her hand, and she bumps right into him, knocking all his beakers into the sink. In the middle of all that, she sticks out her foot just a little and boom! He wipes out!” 

Bellamy felt his mouth drop open as Raven’s laughter began anew. “And that’s not all!” She exclaimed. “ _Then_ she’s got those wide baby blues as she apologizes and leans over, and spills _all of her samples_ right onto him.” She cackled. “You should have seen his face! He had no idea what hit him.”

"Princess tends to have that effect," Bellamy murmured absently. Clarke's eyes shot up, her flush deepening and spreading down her neck. He was enjoying the sight immensely.

“It wasn’t like the chemicals touched his skin,” she muttered, looking down again. “He was gloved up.”

“But he didn’t have his lab coat,” Raven sang gleefully.

Clarke’s mouth twisted ever so slightly. “Not my fault he’s too cool to follow protocol.”

Bellamy stared in amazement. She would never cease to surprise him.

“They had to send him to the decontamination shower. God, it was beautiful.” Raven shook her head one more time before running to her next class with a quick wave. Clarke bit her lip, peeking up at Bellamy.

“I didn’t tell her why,” she said before he could ask. “It was kind of impulsive. I just saw him and I got so… angry.”

A large smile split his face and he laughed hard and long, his hands braced on his knees. Clarke smiled tentatively. When he finally caught his breath, Bellamy stepped closer and lifted her off the ground in a hug. She squeaked in surprise, her hands clutching his shoulders tightly.

“Brave princess,” he murmured.

Her warm laugh stayed with him for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dinner is served.” 

Bellamy strode down the hall holding two full plates. He set one down in front of Octavia and one in front of Clarke with a flourish and a small bow. Octavia laughed and threw a bread roll at him. 

“Hurry up or we’ll start without you.”

Clarke looked in amazement at the steaming hot food on her plate. The smell of the meat and sauce combined with the pasta was already making her mouth water. 

“Trust me, it’s as good as it looks.” 

She looked up to see Octavia watching her with a grin. Bellamy returned from the kitchen at that moment with his own plate, sitting down at the table with a contented sigh. Octavia dug in eagerly, and Clarke followed suit. 

God, it was delicious. When was the last time she’d eaten like this? 

She was several bites in before she realized Bellamy wasn’t eating. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she saw him slowly cut and butter the bread roll, his gaze on Octavia. When his eyes flicked to her, Clarke gave him the most genuine smile she could muster.

“This is amazing, Bellamy,” she said. His eyes lit up and he nodded his thanks. Octavia added her compliments in between bites and he smiled, finally taking a bite of his food.

“It’s the least I could do. After you two were nice enough to let me stay here for this long.”

“I can’t believe it’s been two weeks,” Clarke said thoughtfully. 

He looked amused. “You sound so surprised.”

“I guess I am. Usually it feels like the days take forever forever to pass by. This time it didn’t.” She shrugged and smiled at him.

“It probably takes so long because you barely ever sleep,” Octavia shook her fork at her in mock scolding. “It’s not natural to spend that many hours awake.”

Clarke only chuckled and twirled more pasta around her fork. 

“So Bellamy, where’d you learn to cook?” 

He cocked an eyebrow at her abrupt change of subject, but let her off the hook. “Books, TV, Youtube. You name it, I probably tried it.”

“Somehow I can’t see you watching the Food Network.” She grinned and Bellamy reached out to tug her braid. Clarke stuck out her tongue, not noticing how Octavia watched them curiously.

“You’d be amazed how much you can find online, honestly. If there was anything I didn’t understand, I would just Google it. Eventually I’d find a diagram or video showing me what to do.” His mouth curved up as he looked at his sister. “Though there were a lot of burnt dishes at first.”

Octavia still had a strange look on her face but it quickly vanished at his remark. “You name it, he burned it. But we ate it anyways.”

“That we did,” he agreed.

Clarke smiled, continuing to munch slowly. "That sounds nice," she murmured. "My dad used to cook all the time. He always found a way to use whatever was in the fridge. Mom was always on shift so it'd be just me and him, eating the strangest things." She laughed wistfully.

"He sounds very cool," Bellamy said.

"Yeah, he was the best. He would have liked you." Clarke didn't realize why they were so silent until she looked up to see Bellamy's surprised face. Retracing her words in her mind, she flushed. “Well, it’s true,” she said defensively. “You two are resourceful and caring, and he always said family comes first.”

She excused herself to get a glass of water, pressing her heated face against the fridge door for a moment.

 _Where had that come from?_ Not that it wasn’t true, but the comment had slipped out so easily. It wasn’t normal for her to blurt out her thoughts like that. Clarke shook her head and returned to the table, grateful to hear them already on another topic.

After dinner, she volunteered to do dishes. Octavia gave her a quick hug before heading out to see Lincoln, leaving her alone with Bellamy. He grinned as he placed another stack of dishes in the sink.

“Still volunteering?”

“Of course. You cooked this amazing meal. It’s the least I can do.” 

“Alright, how about you wash and I’ll dry?”

“Deal.” Clarke smiled up at him, only then realizing how close they were. She could have counted the freckles on his cheeks. He had dimples, when he smiled widely enough.

“You okay?” His expression became one of concern and she realized she’d been staring.

“Fine,” she squeaked out. Turning on the water, she rolled up her sleeves and dunked her hands in the cold water, hoping it would cool off the rest of her body too.

“So what’s the weirdest thing you and your dad ever made?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke grinned immediately. “Frozen pizza with pickles, pineapple, and sausage,” she answered promptly. Bellamy wrinkled his nose.

“Damn. That counts.”

“Right?” She laughed. “What about you?”

“It’s not exactly strange, but there was one time O and I were in a rough patch and we had nothing but ramen in our cupboards. It was breakfast, lunch, and dinner for I don’t know how long.” He chuckled. “I still can’t look at noodles the same way.”

“Is that why she gets nauseous whenever she smells it?”

He nodded and Clarke laughed. “That explains a lot. I practically lived on ramen for a semester and every time I got home she’d be spraying Febreeze or something to get rid of the smell.” 

She handed him another dish. “Mom always used to scold us whenever she came home and found us eating another one of dad's concoctions. Said his bad habits would only rub off on me. But despite everything, she always ate whatever he made. I never saw her smile so much as when he made that pizza.” Her voice drifted off. “I miss that the most, you know? She’s always so serious and considerate. It was like she could only really let go when he was around.”

A sudden lump formed in her throat and she stopped abruptly. It had been a while since she’d spoken about her family that much to anyone.

Bellamy took another glass from the sink. “When O was little, she could only fall asleep to the sound of my mom’s voice. Like, either she sang to her or there would just be tears and whimpers until she finally got what she wanted.”

Clarke smiled, swallowing.

“There were a lot of nights when my mom was working a double shift, so I’d be the one to put O to bed. I had to record mom singing and then play it back while I sang with it.” Bellamy chuckled fondly. “I still can’t listen to that song all the way through.”

The lump in Clarke’s throat had lessened as he talked, and soon it was gone entirely.

They finished the dishes in a comfortable silence. Without a second thought, Clarke wrapped herself in the blue blanket and curled onto the couch. She flipped through the TV channels as Bellamy sat down next to her. He was very close; close enough that if she leaned back, the contact would be too much to not be intentional. Clarke was so distracted by the thought that her fingers absently kept hitting the remote button.

Bellamy tugged on her braid. “Hold on, go back a few.” She focused her attention on the TV, trying to draw moisture back into her mouth. “There! Casino Royale.” His hand pulled the remote away, setting it out of her reach. At her look, he shrugged. “My turn to pick.”

Clarke wrinkled her nose but didn’t argue. 

“Come on,” he nudged. “You can’t possibly hate James Bond. Even O likes these movies.”

“I guess there is a certain charm to them.” Relaxing, she leaned back without thinking and came into direct contact with his firm chest. She nearly jumped out of her skin and would have pulled away, except Bellamy just shifted his arm so it rested along the back of the couch.

Suddenly she was nestled in the crook of his shoulder and wasn’t sure she wanted to move ever again. Peeking up, she found his eyes firmly on the television. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. He just seemed to be at peace. Clarke suddenly felt very grateful to be allowed these glimpses of his unguarded self.

Then his eyes shifted to her and she hurried to latch her gaze to the television, missing the small smile that crossed his face.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meddling friends - mostly Octavia :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you guys for reading & for all the feedback!

“Are you sleeping with my roommate?”

Bellamy choked and spit out his beer. Miller stopped from restocking the glasses to stride over in concern, thumping his back as he coughed. When he finally gave a weak thumbs up, his friend stopped but didn’t move away. Bellamy turned to glare at his sister, who sat at on the opposite side of the bar with her chin in her hands.

“Seriously? What is with your timing, O?”

She only raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Answer the question, Bell.”

“No,” he said honestly. “I’m not.”

_I wish._

The smirk on her face only widened. “Alright. Then what’s this?” She held up her phone to his face. He looked at the picture on the screen, feeling his stomach bottom out. Clarke was wrapped inside that blanket of hers on the couch, as usual, but this time she was snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder. Both their eyes were closed in sleep.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Suddenly Miller was looking over his shoulder. “That your new girlfriend, Blake?”

Bellamy ignored him, instead looking at Octavia. “When did you take that?”

“I came back to get something the other night,” she said innocently. “Imagine my surprise, when-”

He held up a hand to cut her off. Miller was still peering at the screen. “Seriously, is that your girlfriend? Because it sure looks like-”

Bellamy pushed the phone away. “No,” he said curtly. “Is that really all you guys talk about?”

“Come on, man. Don’t act like you haven’t changed.” Miller looked at Octavia. “Nearly all the girls that enter this bar flirt with him. And up until a few months ago, he flirted right back. Always had the most tips.”

“That’s my job,” Bellamy countered. “Don’t act like you don’t do it too.”

Miller wagged a finger. “But I’m not done. Lately, all the ladies get is a polite smile and a drink order. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I’m perfectly nice,” Bellamy protested. “How else should I act? Oh, I know. Maybe next time I’ll give them the silent treatment. Or maybe I should brood. That’ll really do the trick.”

They both rolled their eyes. 

“Shut up, big brother,” Octavia leaned her elbows on the counter, a gleam in her eyes. “You’re smitten, and you know it.”

Bellamy crouched to grab a towel, muttering under his breath.

“What was that?” Octavia called cheerily.

“You suck.”

She laughed, unfazed. Miller clapped an apologetic hand on his shoulder before heading into the back. Bellamy straightened and met Octavia’s eyes. “Don’t show Clarke that picture, alright?” He requested.

She propped her chin in her hands. “Give me a reason not to.”

“Because I don’t want to freak her out. I have no idea where she stands in all of this.”

“Bell,” Octavia grabbed his hand. “You know exactly where she stands. This isn’t one-sided. Not by a long shot.”

Despite the how the words warmed him, he shook his head stubbornly. “Until I hear that from her, just don’t, okay? I mean it, O.”

She sighed. “What are you so afraid of, big brother?” 

When he didn’t answer, she tugged on his hand firmly. “I’m not saying you have to jump in head first. But it wouldn’t hurt to let your guard down a little bit.”

He snorted. His guard was so far down he couldn’t see it anymore. Clarke had taken care of that easily.

Octavia was undeterred. “I think she’s worth the risk, don’t you?”

Bellamy sighed and laid his head on his arm. “I know she is,” he muttered. “I’m just trying not to fuck this up.”

“You can’t fuck it up if you haven’t even started,” Octavia pointed out gently.

“You’d be surprised.” He lifted his head and tweaked her nose good-naturedly. “So how’s Lincoln doing? Are we ever seeing that showcase you keep going on about?”

She let him change the subject, or so he thought. Her eyes brightened. “Soon, I swear! He’s looking for a space big enough. His professor’s helping him research some places for a rental one evening. I can’t wait for you to see his work, Bell.”

Then she grinned. “Clarke’s coming, too.”

“You’re a nosy little brat.”

“But you love me anyways.” 

“I guess,” he sighed exaggeratedly but smiled.

“It’s probably going to be a formal affair, the showcase,” she said thoughtfully. “Oh god, I can just see it now, Clarke in a dress and you in a button-up, maybe a blazer…”

Bellamy groaned loudly. “Come on, please stop now,” he begged.

“I believe as the little sister I am given extra teasing privileges.” But her voice softened. “You really like her, don’t you?”

His silence was enough of an answer. She didn’t say anything more, just let him finish cleaning up around the bar. They only looked up when Wick came out dragging the mop and cart.

“Blake junior!” He held his arms out for a hug. “Long time no see.”

Octavia laughed and hopped off her stool to go hug him. “Hey Wick. Still pining for Reyes?” 

“I do not pine,” came Wick’s reply. Bellamy grinned to himself.

“Sure,” she drawled. “I’ll tell her you said hi anyways.”

“Mhm. So how’s everything with you? Still got the boyfriend?”

“Yep, he’s stuck with me.”

“Maybe while you’re at it you should set up your brother. He could use a good lay.”

Bellamy clapped a hand over his face. “Jesus, not you too.”

“Wellllll…”

“O, don’t.”

His sister took pity on him. Sort of. “He’s already in too deep. It’s ‘complicated’,” she made air quotes around the word.

“Ah. Been there.”

“Can you go somewhere else and talk about me?” Bellamy called.

Octavia smirked and skipped back to the counter. “So touchy. Maybe I should call Clarke, see if she can-”

He snatched the phone away and she dissolved into giggles. “You’ve got it baaaad,” she sang.

“I hate you,” he mumbled. 

“Not possible.” She took the phone back. “You’re always complaining that I never visit you here anymore. Well, ta-da.”

“I will never complain about that again,” he promised.

“Whatever.”

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his back pocket only to groan at the screen. Octavia’s text was accompanied by the picture of him and Clarke.

“Pretty soon I’ll have enough to start an album,” she mused.

Bellamy took her half-empty glass, draining the rest in one gulp. “You’re cut off now.”

But he saved the picture to his phone anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple days later, Clarke walked inside her apartment to find Octavia and Raven laughing on the couch. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. They both turned to her with equally mischievous grins, and she nearly backed out the door again.

“Finally, you’re back!” Octavia lifted a bottle from the table - one of several, Clarke noticed - and waved her over. “Come, sit, be merry,” she intoned.

“Somehow I feel like this won’t end well,” Clarke murmured.

“Shut up and get over here,” Raven grinned. “I was just telling Octavia about your beautiful lab mishap with Mr. Dunlap.” 

Clarke looked over at her roommate, who blew her a noisy kiss. A laugh bubbled out of her and she gave in with an exaggerated sigh. Leaving her bag on the floor, she flopped on the couch next to Raven.

“You two started without me,” she accused. Her friend only lifted a shoulder carelessly.

“You took too long.”

Clarke rolled her eyes but swiped the bottle of wine. “No glasses? Are we being heathens tonight?” She inquired. 

“Shut up and go get them,” Raven shoved at her.

She stuck out her tongue but returned with three large wine glasses. At Octavia’s insistence, they’d bought the ones that resembled bowls moreso than actual cups. _Just in case we want more than wine,_ she’d explained. Now they filled them nearly to the brim.

“So tell me,” Raven said after a large gulp, “Have you or have you not tapped the beautiful specimen that is Bellamy Blake yet?”

“Ewww!” Octavia cried. “Can you _not?_ He’s my brother.”

“Doesn’t change the facts.”

Clarke laughed. “You’re just as bad as he is. And no, I have not. I told you that wasn’t going to happen.” _Not yet, anyways._

“Give it time,” Raven replied.

Octavia sat up suddenly. “Oh my god. I didn’t show you the picture yet!”

“What picture?” They asked at the same time.

Gleefully, she pulled out her phone and scrolled to the photo in question before holding it in front of them triumphantly. “Behold!”

Raven nearly spilled her wine as she reached out to grab the phone. “Shut up. This is fucking cute.”

Clarke leaned over her shoulder, her face heating up when she realized what she was looking at. In the photo, she was curled up on the couch, mostly tucked inside the blue blanket. But her eyes were closed and her head was on Bellamy’s shoulder. He seemed to be asleep as well, judging by the lack of lines on his face and the droop of his head. 

“When did you take this?” She demanded.

“Oh, I think you know very well.”

Clarke _did_ know, even though she couldn’t remember falling asleep that night. But that was always the case lately; she got lulled into a relaxed state and drifted off only to find herself stretched out alone on the couch in the mornings.

“Octavia,” she groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“Because, you two are in denial, and as Reyes so eloquently put it, it’s fucking cute.”

Both she and Raven chortled. Clarke swiped the phone away, deleting the picture and wishing the redness wasn’t so obvious on her face.

“Don’t be a buzzkill, Clarke,” Raven bumped her shoulder. “We’re just teasing.”

“Plus I already sent the pic to Bell,” Octavia told her cheerily. “So it lives on.”

Clarke groaned and pressed her face into the couch cushion. “You guys suck.”

“More wine will fix that,” Raven declared.

Clarke rolled her eyes but held out her glass anyways. Octavia took her phone back and took a long swig of her drink.

“In all seriousness, though, is something going on that I should know about?”

She patted Clarke’s back as she sputtered and coughed on the large gulp she’d just taken. “Do you wait for me to take a sip before asking these questions?” Clarke asked after wiping her mouth.

Her friend grinned sheepishly but raised an expectant eyebrow all the same. Clarke sighed. “I don’t know what you want to hear, Octavia. We get along better now. What else is there?”

“It’s not just that. He’s different around you,” the brunette said thoughtfully. “Like he’s more at ease in his own skin or something. I never see Bell relax that much around anyone else.”

The words sent a warm glow through Clarke’s body, and she bit her cheek to stop the foolish smile that threatened. She studied her glass intently, not knowing how to respond. It wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed. Her own reactions to him were unexpected as well. There was no doubt that something was changing.

Still, she wasn’t ready to vocalize anything when she hadn’t even come to terms with it in her own head.

Ever understanding, Octavia tapped her knee. “I’m just saying, if something _did_ happen, I’d be okay with it.”

Clarke smiled tentatively. This was so strange. Octavia was giving her blessing? For… what, exactly?

An eyebrow arched. “Just don’t ever make me pick between you two, or I’ll have to hurt you both.”

“Noted.”

After a moment, Raven’s voice cut through the air. “Your babies would be smart _and_ beautiful.”

Octavia collapsed in laughter. With a long-suffering sigh, Clarke threw the blanket over herself, hiding her face in her knees. She was going to need a lot more wine.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we're getting closer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the feedback! it makes me so happy to know people are enjoying this :)

Hours later, Clarke tiptoed to her room, taking one last glance over her shoulder. Raven was sprawled facedown on the couch while Octavia snuggled into the small armchair, her legs curling over the edge. Empty bottles and wine glasses littered the small coffee table. 

Clarke grinned to herself. She loved her friends dearly, but she hadn’t been above topping off their glasses every chance she got.

Slipping into her room, she shut the door and pulled on her usual shorts and sweater before crawling into bed. For a while, she scrolled through her phone, thumbing absently through her Twitter feed. After distracting herself with as many news stories as possible, she let the phone go dark and pulled the covers over her bare legs. 

She’d been hoping the alcohol would make her sleepy, but instead their conversations had only served to keep her mind furiously at work. Though she'd easily gone along with the girls' merciless teasing, there was a part of her that wondered how much truth was in their words. That part was becoming more vocal as the days went on.

There was no doubt she’d begun to look forward to the nights with Bellamy. The television had become mostly background noise to their conversations. It wasn’t like they’d bared their souls, but sometimes it was nice to just sit and talk in the darkness. She learned things that otherwise might have stayed silent in the light of day.

For example, she’d never have found out that Bellamy was mildly claustrophobic. Nor would she have ever admitted that at the tender age of six, she’d been scarred for life by a particularly eager seagull who was after the half-eaten peanut butter sandwich in her hand. Peanut butter had never quite been the same.

Clarke could _still _hear him laughing. (She was far too proud to be the cause of it.)__

Chewing at her bottom lip, she scrolled through her phone until she found his name. It was a given that he’d be awake, since he was working tonight. But it was nearly 2 a.m. He often mentioned that it quieted down in the early morning hours. After another few seconds of hesitation, she tapped his name and put the phone to her ear, praying neither of the girls in the living room would choose this moment to wake up. 

There was a cacophony of noise when Bellamy answered. “Hello?” He nearly shouted into the phone and she pulled it slightly away. 

“Hey. Uh, it’s me.” _God, come on._

“Princess?” Even despite the noise, Clarke could hear his surprise. But he also sounded pleased. 

__“Yeah. Sorry, are you busy?”_ _

“Hang on one sec.” There was muffled conversation and a shaky, distorted sound that she took to mean he was moving. Then the click of a door, and everything muted. “You still there?” His voice was at a normal volume now. 

__“I’m here.” She paused. “Did I interrupt something?”_ _

“Just another night at The Ark.”

__“It sounded more like a nightclub.”_ _

"Nah, my buddy and his band set up to do a few songs. It’s actually bringing in quite the crowd, so we just let them go as long as possible.” 

__“Oh, okay. In that case I’ll let you go, it’s not important-”_ _

“Relax, princess,” Bellamy chuckled. “It’s not like I’m a doctor. They’ll keep drinking whether I’m there or not." Clarke smiled at that, absently twisting a strand of hair around her finger. His voice softened. “Everything okay?” 

__“Yeah. Just can’t sleep, as usual. And my couch buddy is nowhere to be found.”_ _

“What an asshole.” 

__She laughed softly, feeling the tension from the day slowly drain out of her body._ _

“Hey Clarke?" 

__“Hmm?”_ _

“Why are you whispering?” 

__“Oh. Raven and your sister are asleep in the living room. They, uh, surprised me earlier.”_ _

“You guys had a party and didn’t invite _me_?" He teased. 

__Clarke snorted. “Hardly a party. More like, lets drink our weight in alcohol because it’s Saturday night.”_ _

Bellamy’s laugh gave her an awful case of the butterflies. “You sound very coherent for someone who’s just consumed that much liquor.”

“I may or may not have been refilling their glasses a bit vigorously.” Another warm chuckle rewarded her ears. She clutched the blanket around her and curled into her pillow. “So… Octavia told me she sent you that picture.” 

There was a long pause, followed by a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, she did. Quite the troublemaker, that one.” 

__“She really is. I… uh…,” Clarke tripped over her own words. Bellamy was too quiet, and it made her nervous. It also made her want to reassure him. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in days,” she finally said.__

__Something like a small sigh reached her ears. “Me too,” he admitted quietly, and she smiled to herself in the dark._ _

__“So,” she forced her voice to remain normal, “work’s good?”_ _

"Yeah. I was expecting just the regulars tonight, but then the band started up and things kind of took off.” The way he paused, she could tell he was having a debate with himself. Clarke waited quietly until he said, “You should come by sometime.” 

__The butterflies in her stomach took flight. “Yeah?”_ _

“Yeah. It’s pretty low-key, usually. I think you’d like it.” 

__She repressed the urge to do a small jig, though her toes had already curled into her sheets. “Maybe I will. I could use a change.”_ _

“If you’re not going to sleep, you should at least enjoy my company.”

__Clarke rolled her eyes, even though she could practically see his smirk. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”_ _

__Was she flirting? With _Bellamy?__ _

“There aren’t any others,” he said immediately. 

__Oh god. She was. And so was he._ _

__They were both silent an extra moment until she cleared her throat lamely. “Okay, I’ll let you get back. But I will take you up on the offer.”_ _

“Good. Also, try the playlist I put on your computer. Might help you sleep.” 

__Her brow furrowed. “When were you on my computer?”_ _

“Relax,” he said. “All I did was burn the CD on there and make it its own playlist. You seriously didn’t notice?” 

Clarke reached for the laptop on her side table and flipped it open, scrolling to her iTunes. Sure enough, there was the list. It was even titled _Princess._ “Guess I’ve been pretty tired,” she mumbled.

“Well then get some rest,” Bellamy said firmly. 

“Yes, mother.” But she was smiling when she hung up. Putting her earphones in, she pressed play and curled under the covers. To her surprise, she drifted off soon after. 

__~~~~~~~_ _

__Bellamy grabbed several rags from the lower shelf, throwing them over the spilled drink on the counter. Though it was only 11 p.m., he felt like his shift should have been well into the early morning hours by now. Next to him, Wick grumbled under his breath as he bent down to retrieve the broken glass with the small dustpan. As they cleaned up, Bellamy looked over to Miller, who was calmly leading the drunken man to a taxi waiting at the curb. Not for the first time, he found himself grateful to have him around. He had the patience Bellamy sorely lacked._ _

__He threw the soaked rags into a bucket in the back. When he returned, Wick was emptying the glass shards into the trash bin. About to tiptoe back to finish cleaning, he stopped and looked past Bellamy._ _

__“Who’s the blonde?”_ _

__Bellamy shrugged and reached for the broom. He was so tired he didn’t particularly care who had just walked in. He was used to Wick by now, but when his friend didn’t stop staring, he waved a hand in front of his face. “Hey man, come on.”_ _

__But Wick shook his head. “I think she’s looking for you.”_ _

__“What?” Bellamy’s head snapped around._ _

__Clarke was standing by the door, shifting from foot to foot as her eyes searched the bar. Her hair streamed loosely over her jacket, and she tucked it behind her ear in what he recognized as an anxious gesture. When her gaze finally landed on him, her face lit up and she raised a hand in greeting. She was all nerves and sunshine, and it made him foolishly happy. A smile stretched across his face as he waved her over._ _

__Suddenly he wasn’t so tired anymore._ _

__She took a seat on the barstool at one corner of the curved counter, and he rested his elbows on the wood. “You made it.”_ _

__“Surprised?”_ _

Bellamy shrugged, even though he was. It had been a few days since they’d spoken on the phone - since _she’d_ called _him_ , he remembered delightedly. He hadn’t been sure if she’d take him up on the offer, but had been too much of a chickenshit to repeat it just yet.

__“I had a couple of night shifts and a huge lab report due today,” Clarke explained quickly. “This was the first night I could get away.” Her eyes said she knew what had been on his mind, and Bellamy tried not to smile too widely. Her first night off, and she’d come here. To see him._ _

__“So what’re you drinking?” He asked._ _

__She tapped her chin in thought, her eyes wandering over the chalkboard menu they’d written earlier that evening. “You pick,” she said finally._ _

__He chose a dark coffee stout from the tap, filling her glass and sliding it over. Clarke took a sip, then a larger gulp, and he knew he’d chosen right. As her gaze wandered over the rest of the bar, he felt his spine straighten slightly. The place was a bit rundown, and not nearly as fancy as some of the others nearby, but he’d been working here so long that it felt a lot like his second home. He was fairly protective of it. What he couldn’t quite figure out was why he wanted _her_ to like it, too._ _

__“You were right,” Clarke said finally. “This is low-key. I like it a lot.”_ _

__His heart soared. “I know it’s not like the The Tavern or Graffiti,” he named the other popular bars he could think of, “but I prefer it that way.”_ _

__She was nodding. “Me too. Those are way too crowded all the time. And so loud. I’d like to not have to yell at the person sitting right next to me.”_ _

__“Exactly. Plus I’d like to think we get some regulars in here. Some familiarity is always nice.”_ _

__Clarke hummed in agreement. “It suits you,” she said thoughtfully, and god if that didn’t make him want to kiss her._ _

__A clap on his shoulder made him turn. Wick stood behind him, grinning far too mischievously for his liking. He held a hand out to Clarke, who shook it politely. “Hey there. I’m Wick.”__

__“Clarke. Nice to meet you.”_ _

__“You’re Raven’s friend, right?”_ _

__Her eyebrows lifted. “You know Raven?”_ _

__“Know, worship. Though she doesn’t quite feel the same.”_ _

__“Sounds familiar.” Clarke grinned. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”_ _

__“That would be great.” His gaze shifted to Bellamy. “So how do you know this one?”_ _

__“His sister is my roommate. I met her freshman year, and he wasn’t far behind.” She threw a knowing grin his way. “As usual.”_ _

__“Of course. So what, it was love at first sight?”_ _

__Bellamy groaned, resisting the urge to punch him. He did put a hand over his eyes. When he peeked through his fingers, Clarke was still grinning, though her cheeks were pink._ _

__“More like grudge,” she answered, and he chuckled in relief. Her eyes flicked to his. “But we got over it.”_ _

__“Well you should come visit more often. I don’t see this one smile nearly as much as he has in the past few minutes.” Wick cuffed him on the back of the head good-naturedly before leaving with a wave._ _

__“Sorry about that,” Bellamy said sheepishly. “He’s a good guy, really.”_ _

__“I know. He wouldn’t be your friend otherwise.” She smiled, and he returned it. “So how did you find this place?” She asked curiously, taking another sip of her drink._ _

__He found the words spilling out easily, how he’d wandered in here early in his first year with his awful fake I.D. and ended up nearly getting thrown out after starting a fight._ _

__“Well, I didn’t start it,” he clarified. “But I finished it.”_ _

__Clarke shook her head. “Of course.”_ _

__“Anyways. The manager of this place, Sam, he’s actually a decent guy. Didn’t press charges or anything. Just told me I could pay my dues by being a mop boy four nights a week, or I could get out and never come back.” Bellamy paused in thought. “It was the first time someone gave me a second chance. So I took it. Never really looked back.”_ _

__It suddenly occurred to him that he’d just told her much more than he intended. (As usual.) He swallowed and was searching for a switch in topics when his name was called._ _

__“Hey Blake, I’m headed out so-”_ _

__Bellamy had to resist a groan as Miller’s grin widened at the sight of Clarke. “Well hello.”_ _

__“Hi.”_ _

__“Clarke, this is Nathan Miller,” Bellamy introduced them with a warning glance to his friend. “Miller, Clarke Griffin.”_ _

__They shook hands. “You’re his sister’s roommate, right?” Miller asked._ _

__“Yup, that’s me.”_ _

__Bellamy hoped she would just chalk that up that to his sister’s big mouth._ _

__“Cool. Hope to see more of you around here,” Miller said cheerily._ _

__Clarke looked slightly taken aback. “Thanks?”_ _

__“So you’re headed out, then?” Bellamy interrupted. Miller coughed to hide his laugh and nodded._ _

“See you on Saturday.” He was gone with a wave, and Clarke turned back with a bemused look.

Bellamy made a quick decision. “We need shots."

__Though startled, she grinned._ _

__~~~~~~~_ _

__An hour later, Bellamy traced the rim of his empty glass, swiveling on the barstool. “So you want to know why I call you princess?”_ _

__“I think we’ve already covered that,” Clarke said dryly, but he shook his head._ _

__“Not that. The other reason.”_ _

__She tilted her head. “The other reason?” When he nodded, she leaned closer, her eyes encouraging him on.__

__“Do you remember the Halloween party at McQueen’s, freshman year?” She made a face and Bellamy grinned. “Yeah. Well, you and O were there all dolled up as princesses. You were wearing a blue dress and a crown of flowers.”_ _

__“The daisies,” Clarke remembered with a soft laugh. She clapped a hand to her cheek. “Oh god. We probably looked so silly.”_ _

__“No, you were lovely.” It slipped out so quickly that he had no chance to take it back. As she stared at him, he hurried onwards. “Anyways, she made me go, too. As her knight.”_ _

__“How appropriate.” Clarke smiled and his heart lurched._ _

__“So I had just found you both when some guy came up to you…”_ _

__“Ugh.” She groaned, remembering. “ _Every princess needs a prince,_ ” she mocked in a deep voice, and Bellamy chuckled._ _

__“Yup. That’s the one. And you ever so politely declined, over and over-”_ _

__“-and over.”_ _

__“Then he got a bit handsy. Grabbed your ass. And _you,” he grinned, “you pulled a switchblade from god knows where and said-”__ _

___“-I’m not that kind of princess,” she finished wonderingly, and he nodded._ _ _

_But you’re my kind of princess._

___Clarke watched him silently, her blue eyes piercing him so deeply he wondered if she could see to his very soul. Clearing his throat, Bellamy stood abruptly and made his way around the counter. “I need water. You?”_ _ _

___“Sure.”_ _ _

___When he slid the glass over to her, she caught his hand before he could pull away. “Bellamy,” she said softly, and oh, what else could he do besides stop?_ _ _

___“Why did you tell me that now and not when I first asked?”_ _ _

___He was wondering the same thing. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I guess… I don’t usually trust people off the bat. And I really wasn’t expecting you to ask, so when it happened all I could think was to deflect. It’s kind of automatic sometimes. I guess I just didn’t want to show my cards so early. I didn’t really know you.”_ _ _

___Clarke's thumb grazed across his wrist, lightly tapping his pulse. “And now?”_ _ _

___“Now… now I do.” He smiled and linked his fingers with hers. Her eyes lingered on his for a second longer before dropping to their hands, and when she smiled and squeezed back, he felt like anything was possible._ _ _


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to all who've been reading & made it this far! I reallyyyyy hope you like this chapter, it's for you :) *wink wink, nudge nudge*

Bellamy turned the faucets back and forth, staring at the sink. No water came out. There was only a steady _drip… drip_ of infuriating slow drops that fell one by one, as if to taunt him. _Drip._ He groaned and knelt to open the cabinets underneath. This was so not how he had intended to spend his day off.

Laying on his back, he maneuvered himself inside to get a proper look at the pipes. He was just starting to check them when he heard the door open and close.

“Hello?” Clarke’s voice sounded distantly.

“In here,” he called.

All he could see were her dark boots when she walked over. “Bellamy? What happened?”

“Your sink is broken.”

“Great.” He heard a thud as her bag hit the ground, and then her footsteps retreated. She was barefoot when she returned, this time holding a box in her right hand. Kneeling, she set it by his outstretched legs as her face popped into view. Clarke grinned and lifted the lid, showing him the tool set. “A gift from Raven.” 

“Nice. Can you hand me the wrench?”

She placed it in his hand and settled on the floor, folding her legs in front of her while he fiddled with the pipes. “Look at you, cooking us dinner and fixing our plumbing,” she teased. “We should keep you around more.”

“You really should,” he agreed with a grin.

“Oh! That reminds me.” Clarke yanked her bag close, digging inside and retrieving a slip of paper. “I saw a couple of apartment listings today over at the med school and wrote them down in case you were interested.”

Bellamy chuckled. “So keeping me around lasted about five seconds, huh?” 

He’d meant it as a joke, but Clarke’s eyes widened in alarm. “No! That’s not what this is. Really. It’s not like I want you to go.”

“What?” His head snapped up so fast it banged against the pipes. “Ow! Son of a-”

“Shit! Are you okay?” 

Clarke scrambled onto her knees, ducking her head inside the small cabinet. He let his head thud back against the floor, momentarily seeing stars as he rubbed his temple. 

“God, Bell, you should be more careful,” she scolded.

He couldn’t help but smile at her concern. _(She’d called him Bell again.)_ Who would have thought Clarke Griffin would ever be worried about him, of all people? He must have said as much, because she muttered, “idiot” and wiggled further into the small space. Then her hand was pushing his aside, her fingers pressing along his scalp. When she touched the tender spot that had taken the brunt of the impact, he grunted, and heard her hum in response. 

Her voice sounded very close. He smelled sandalwood and a hint of lavender.

When Bellamy opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by a curtain of blonde hair as Clarke hovered over him. Her gaze drifted over his head, analytical and far too tense. Her fingers still trailed over his forehead, though now they were more soothing than probing.

“It’s just a bump. I’ll be fine.” He had no idea why he was whispering.

“Head injuries can be deceiving.”

“Yeah, well I have a pretty thick skull. Or did you forget?” He tapped her nose, not content until the worried lines finally eased from her face. She still didn’t move. He hoped that was a good sign. Then his mind wandered back to the words that had caused his injury in the first place, and something strange fluttered in his chest.

“So you don’t want me to go, huh?” 

The flush on her face was immediate and adorable. Red spread over her cheeks in a hurry as she stammered, her blue eyes wide with panic for a whole new reason. Bellamy laughed, and the thing in his chest took flight. He put a finger to her lips to cut off any reply, feeling her soft intake of breath against his skin. 

“I don’t want to go either,” he said.

Clarke’s breath caught, and then a gorgeous smile bloomed on her face, shy and hopeful. It could have filled the entirety of the dingy little cabinet with light for days. Tentative fingers traced the outline of his face, coming to rest under his jaw. His own hand was cautiously on her hip, and when there was no protest, moved around to her back. He tapped along her vertebrae through her thin shirt, lazily dragging his fingers up her spine. He felt the shift in her breathing, saw her pink lips part. His hand splayed on her back, urging her closer.

The first touch of their lips was a careful, featherlike brush, as if neither of them could quite believe that the other wasn’t stopping. Then they pressed together with a little more insistence, quick nips and pecks until he captured her bottom lip and sucked gently. A longing sigh spilled from her mouth and then his hand wove into her hair just as she tilted her head, and they were finally, really kissing. One kiss melted into the next, and Bellamy dazedly prayed this wasn’t some head wound causing a hallucination.

His lungs were protesting when he finally drew back, though he barely cared over the thudding of his heart. Clarke was still vibrantly flushed, and the sight of her swollen lips and tangled hair made him pull her back almost immediately.

The sound of the door slamming shut caused them both to jump. As Clarke hastened to pull back, her head hit the pipe and she groaned. “Ouch! Damnit,” she yelped.

Bellamy’s chest rumbled with a laugh that he couldn’t quite contain, and she smacked his shoulder even as she laid down next to him with a small huff. Footsteps sounded in the hall, and then Octavia’s mischievous voice came from above.

“What’s going on, guys?” 

Bellamy had to bite back a groan at the glee in her voice. Clarke answered first. “Our sink is broken. Bellamy’s trying to fix the pipes.”

Her voice was a little breathless, but only because he was listening far too hard for it. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” He whispered into her ear. When her elbow connected with his ribs, he coughed to muffle the laugh that emerged.

“You alright there, big brother?” Octavia called innocently.

“Fine,” he managed. “Your sink sucks. Also Clarke hit her head pretty hard.” He figured that would help explain her dazed expression, though damn if he didn't want to happily take the blame all to himself.

“Ugh." His sister sighed. "Should we just call the landlord?”

“Give me a few more minutes.” Bellamy grinned at Clarke, whose blush only deepened. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay. You guys hungry? I can order food.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, O.”

“Sure.” She turned and left, and a few seconds later they heard her room door shut.

He looked at Clarke. “You’re probably gonna have to call your landlord. I’m not sure I can process anything right now.”

She began to giggle, her hands covering her face. He managed to steal two more long kisses before they finally had to maneuver themselves out of the cramped space. 

The next few hours were the longest of his life. It took everything Bellamy had not to simply grab Clarke and hole up inside her room so he could get her to make that little sigh again, and then some, while he explored every inch of her. For her part, she didn’t seem to be doing much better. She was avoiding his eyes at all costs, her cheeks almost permanently stained pink throughout the afternoon. 

(He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t proud to be the cause.)

He really had no idea how Octavia didn’t notice. For all her prior suspicion and smirking glances, she was surprisingly not paying them much attention. Well, it wasn’t so surprising when he learned why.

Bellamy was walking back from the kitchen when he saw Clarke wedge herself against his sister’s side on the couch, their arms linked together. I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” she was saying softly.

“Figure what out?”

Both girls looked up as he approached. Octavia sighed, fiddling with her phone. “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“It is _not_ ,” Clarke insisted. Without really looking at him, she explained, “Lincoln can’t find a spot for his senior showcase. All the areas in the city have too high of a rental cost, and the places he can afford are already booked solid for months.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t his last year,” Octavia cut in miserably. “But he really needs this for his portfolio, and all his grad school apps kind of hinge on this recommendation, which he won’t get unless there’s at least one interested buyer.” She sighed. “I know it’s stressing him out a lot, but he’s just being stupid and taking it quietly.”

“That’s just how he is,” Clarke nudged her. “Not everyone wants to talk things out.”

“Or stomp on other people’s feet,” Bellamy added, and Clarke shot him a glare. His mouth twisted in a hopeless grin. At least she’d finally looked at him. She seemed to realize it when he did, reddening and biting her lip. But she was smiling, too.

His gaze drifted to his sister and he thought quickly. “Hey O, did you think about asking Sam?”

Her eyes lifted curiously. “Sam, your boss?”

“Yeah. I know he’s got connections. Plus he’s the only one who thought The Ark was worth keeping around. Maybe he knows of another place that might work with what Lincoln’s looking for. And I know he’s a history buff - if anyone can find you a spot, he can.”

Clarke tugged eagerly at her arm. “Plus we can pitch in to spruce it up if we have to. I _know_ you love to decorate.”

Octavia’s grin had widened as they spoke. “It’s worth a shot! I’ll try anything to help.” She hopped up from the couch to give him a hug. “Thanks, Bell. I’ll give Lincoln a call to see what he thinks.”

Her room door closed, and suddenly he was alone with Clarke.

She was still smiling, though it had faded from excited to something tentative and hopeful again. Then she gave a soft laugh and ducked her head, and Bellamy dropped next to her on the couch with a rueful chuckle. 

Clarke peeked up at him. “We’re ridiculous.”

“We are,” he agreed.

Her fingers tangled with his, sending a giddy spark through him. “How’s your head?”

“Honestly princess, that is the last thing I’m thinking about.”

Clarke shoved him lightly and he grinned, catching her wrist and pressing a kiss over her pulse before letting go. Her smile was well worth it. Then she looked down at her lap, absently worrying her bottom lip, and it took everything he had not to lean over and take her lip between his teeth. She looked up and saw him watching.

“So now what?” She asked. 

Bellamy didn’t trust himself to stop kissing her if he started, so instead he brought her hand to his mouth, deliberately and teasingly easing his lips over her knuckles until they heard Octavia’s door open. Clarke snatched her hand away quickly, drawing her knees up and tucking her chin atop them. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, hiding her red face.

It did nothing to stop the satisfied feeling bubbling up inside of him. But he plastered a curious look on his face as his sister stepped outside. “How’d it go?” 

“He wants to try. You mind if we come by one night this week?”

“Of course. I’m on shift tomorrow, so I’ll talk to Sam then and figure out a time.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. With a sigh, she plopped down in the armchair. “So what’re you up to tonight?”

He shrugged. “No idea. Princess, any thoughts?”

“Uh…” Clarke was stumped for a moment.

Octavia stuck her tongue out. “She’ll probably say she has to study. Like always,” she complained, though not unkindly.

Bellamy watched her, hoping she wouldn’t say exactly that. The last thing he wanted was for her to lock herself in her room with all her thoughts. Because he just _knew_ her mind was spinning far too quickly.

Then Clarke said, “How about another movie?”

His heart soared as Octavia yelped in surprise. “Do not move. Don’t even think,” she ordered, and ran to get her laptop.

Clarke sent a shy grin his way, and he returned it more than happily. As expected, he ended up watching her more than the movie. But to his delight, whenever he looked over, he found her already looking back.

It was going take days to wipe the foolish grin from his face. Try as he might, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! FYI, the story rating will probably jump after the next few chapters because these two can't stop sexing each other up (really, who can blame them) ;D but in the meantime, enjoy more fluff.

Clarke was curled up on the couch, music blaring from her computer where it sat on the table. It was the playlist Bellamy had made for her. (God, even his _name_ sent her pulse skyward.) The anatomy textbook open on her lap was really not helping matters one bit.

It had only been one day since they’d kissed - _kissed!_ \- but between their classes and work schedules, they’d only crossed paths twice - once yesterday, and then early this morning. Both times, Octavia had been home as well. It had been an unspoken agreement that they would keep this quiet for the moment… whatever _this_ was. 

But Clarke was unable to help the giddy feeling that bubbled up inside her every time she thought about it, how his mouth had felt against hers, so soft and generous and curious. She couldn’t even be bothered by the smirk that seemed permanently plastered to his face every time their eyes met. 

She’d read the same paragraph three times and not processed a word when a key sounded in the lock. A moment later Bellamy stepped inside, a smile appearing instantly when he saw her.

“Hey princess.”

“Hey.”

She returned her gaze to the notebook in front of her, absently biting her pen. The sight of him made her stomach flutter. She felt like a teenager again, sweaty and nervous and unable to breathe. 

This was so, so bad. 

She fumbled for a safe topic. “How was the apartment viewing?”

“Okay. The place was fine but it’s overpriced for the area.” He shrugged. “I’m not usually picky, but it’s a lot of money for _that._ ” He wrinkled his nose, making her grin.

“That sucks. Sorry. Any luck with the others?”

“Yeah, actually, I’ve got two more pretty soon. I just came back to drop off my stuff and grab a snack.” Bellamy paused, fiddling with the strap on his bag before looking over. “Do you want to come with me? I mean, if you’re not too busy-”

“I’m not busy,” she replied immediately. 

He smiled and nodded before wandering into the kitchen, and she tried to focus on her notes again. Though with him nearby, that was next to impossible. She could still feel his arms around her, his hands tangled in her hair, his soft lips molding with hers…

“Clarke?”

She looked up in surprise to find Bellamy standing next to her. “Yeah?”

He held up his phone. “The guy just called and asked to move the appointment up. Can you still come?”

“Of course!” She jumped up and tried to tidy her things quickly, hoping her hair was covering up enough of her heated face. 

Slipping on her sneakers, she followed him out. Their fingers linked together as they slowly headed down the stairs, shoulders brushing with every step. By the time they reached the first floor, Clarke was almost certain she had a foolish grin stamped across her face. She was so distracted by the feeling of holding his hand that when Bellamy abruptly tugged her into a small alcove, all she could do was squeak. The breath left her in a rush as her back hit the wall, and then Bellamy’s mouth had covered hers and her mind went blissfully blank. With a little moan, her hands slid up to his shoulders, winding around his neck to pull him closer. He was solid and warm and eager and he tasted like cherry soda - which she normally didn’t like, though right now she couldn’t remember why. 

When he finally pulled away, his lips found her jaw and trailed lazily to her ear as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he murmured. His low baritone vibrated against her skin, sending a shudder through her body.

“Took you long enough,” she managed to reply. His lips curved against her neck. Clarke tugged at his hair, bringing his mouth back to hers. The kiss was too brief, and she couldn’t help her pout when he drew back. He grinned widely, the dimple in his cheek making a brief appearance.

“I really do need to go see this place.”

“That’s just cruel,” she protested.

Bellamy laughed and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

~~~~~~~~~

They were decidedly more somber as they emerged from the apartment. Clarke eyed Bellamy as they turned the corner. He was slouched in defeat, his eyes hooded and focused on the ground. She absolutely hated the sight. “I can’t believe that guy. That place was barely big enough to fit a table. 'Spacious studio' my ass.”

His mouth lifted briefly before he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She looped her arm through his and tucked her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“S’okay. I’ll live.” Bellamy dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Besides, this means more time in the same place as you."

"I'm afraid that was going to happen no matter what." Clarke flashed a quick grin at him, happy when he returned it. "So where’s the next one?” She asked. 

Bellamy reached into his pocket for his phone, scrolling through the texts. “Down on Gaitherman.”

“Let’s go.”

It was a small stone building, a four-story walk-up next to other similar houses on the street. The guy who met them outside was polite and soft-spoken. He had a kind, older face that reminded Clarke of her dad. After a brief overview of the facilities - aka coin-operated laundry in the basement - he led them up carpeted steps to the second floor. 

When Clarke walked into the apartment, she immediately felt comfortable. There was an ease about the whole place, a lack of fussiness that seemed to fit so inherently with Bellamy. She watched him amble slowly through the small living area, around the counter into the long kitchen. A sudden image popped into her head, of the TV on while Bellamy stood at the stove, the counter filled with all sorts of ingredients. It made her smile.

He turned, finding her eyes and seeing his own smile reflected back in them.

~~~~~~~~~

A week later, Clarke found herself standing in the same spot, this time surrounded by various boxes and furniture. "How did you manage to get all this in storage?" She asked. 

Bellamy stood in the kitchen, distracted."My boss at work, he had a bunch of extra space at one of his properties, kinda gave me free reign when O told him what happened." He sighed. "Damn. At least the guys were able to help me get it all up here. Now... where the hell do I begin?”

She laughed and held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go find food first. Can’t think on an empty stomach.”

He sighed and linked his fingers with hers. “I love how your mind works.”

Of course, they took another several minutes to get out the door. Kissing sort of got in the way of moving. Not that either of them particularly minded. They’d only gotten two blocks before the rain began without warning. The cloudy day turned into blustering wind and raindrops that pelted them at every step. Bellamy’s curse was lost in the noise, but Clarke only laughed and tugged him back to his building. 

"At least this didn't start any earlier or all your stuff would be ruined," she said as they ducked inside the door.

He shook his hair out like a dog. "Always glass half-full, aren't you?"

"Someone has to be."

"Mm." Without warning, he crowded her against the wall, hands tangling into her hair as their mouths met, slick with rainwater. Clarke sighed and wound her arms around him, tracing the dips and grooves of muscle through the thin t-shirt that was molded to his back. When they came up for air, she raked her fingers through his messy curls, looking up at him. It was quite unfair that he was so good-looking even when wet, she decided. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked at her, and this time when his lips returned they were gentle and kind and unhurried, leaving her trembling in his grip.

The sound of a door slamming made them both jump. Bellamy peeled himself off her just as the footsteps came into view, and they saw an older woman holding onto the leash of a small dog. Clarke ran her fingers through her hair, trying not to look like she'd just been making out with her boyfriend - was he her boyfriend? - against the wall in plain sight. The lady nodded pleasantly before opening her umbrella and stepping outside. Clarke took one look at Bellamy and burst into laughter. With a familiarly cocky grin of his own, he brought her hand to his mouth for a swift kiss before tossing an arm around her shoulders. She was still giggling as they made their way up the stairs. 

Once inside, Bellamy disappeared into one of the huge bags of luggage, emerging to toss a fluffy blue towel at her. Clarke wrung her hair out as best she could, hopping in one spot and hoping she wasn’t making a huge mess.

“Here.”

She looked up to see folded clothes in Bellamy’s outstretched hand. “You need to get out of those,” he pointed at her dripping jeans and shirt that now clung to her like a second skin. His eyes lingered a moment longer, igniting a spark in her belly. It was suddenly a struggle to breathe. Then he grinned and kissed her cheek before pushing her in the direction of his room. She peeked over her shoulder to see him strip off his own wet shirt, and her mouth went dry at the sight of his sculpted back. 

She all but ran inside his room, closing the door with a sigh.

~~~~~~~~

Bellamy was doing his very best to not think about Clarke changing on the other side of the door. She’d looked so gorgeous standing in front of him, her hair and clothes plastered to her while she smiled happily… it had taken every ounce of self-control not to sweep her off her feet then and there. 

He threw his wet things into a bag, deciding an impromptu trip to the basement dryer would be necessary. Cautiously, he knocked on the room door.

“You okay?” He called.

A smiled bloomed on his face when Clarke stepped outside. Her hair was beginning to dry, curling around her face like a soft halo. The navy sweatpants dragged on the floor but otherwise fit. Likewise, the sleeves of the grey sweatshirt extended past her fingertips. She pushed them to her elbows in a self-conscious gesture. Her cheeks were still pink. 

She was beautiful. (And she was his.)

Bellamy couldn’t help but take her into his arms. “You should dress like this all the time,” he murmured, kissing her jaw. Her hands clutched at his shoulders on a sigh. She twisted her head to meet his lips, and for a few minutes they stood wrapped up in each other.

A shrill ringing startled them both, and Bellamy looked over to see his phone light up on the table. His head dropped to Clarke’s shoulder with a muffled groan. She giggled and carded her fingers through his hair before pushing him off. He answered the phone with a grunt while she tossed her wet clothes into the bag with his.

“Everything okay?” She asked when he’d finished the call.

“Yeah. Looks like I’ve got the night off. One of the guys needed to switch shifts.”

“Oh. That’s good, right?”

Bellamy looked at her, standing in his living room in his old sweats with her barely drying hair. He smiled. “Yeah. It’s good.”

They ordered pizza, settling on the futon and pushing two end tables together. Clarke found a faded green tablecloth to settle over them. Bellamy hooked the TV up to his laptop and browsed through Netflix. He knew which movie to pick the minute he saw it. When Clarke sat down with a slice of pizza, he hit play and watched her face transform in delight as the black and white figures came on screen.

She leaned up to kiss his cheek, whispering a soft thanks. They ate and watched in comfortable silence, an occasional sigh slipping from Clarke. By the time it was over, her arms were wrapped around his torso and her head tucked below his chin. Her eyelashes fluttered as she let out a massive yawn.

Bellamy grinned. “It’s been a long day,” he said against her hair. “Come on.” He pulled her up gently, kissing away her protests. When he finally managed to usher her into his room, all he could do was thank his mother for repeatedly drilling into him how important it was to make his bed. 

Clarke stood by the door, twisting her fingers together uncertainly as she shifted from foot to foot. It suddenly occurred to him that she was nervous. And now all of a sudden, so was he.

“Hey.” He lifted her chin. “I can sleep outside if you-”

“No! No,” she cut him off, her eyes wide. “That’s not- I don’t-” She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m just suddenly very aware that we’re sleeping _together._ ” 

She smiled shyly, and his worries floated away. He kissed the corner of her mouth. Tugging back the covers, he asked, “Right or left?”

She crawled in on the right, closer to the wall. Bellamy switched off the light and eased in next to her. He kept his movements limited. Clarke lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t seem to notice she was biting her lip distractedly. Normally, he would have kissed away her worry, but somehow he didn’t think that would work this time. So he pressed his lips to her hand instead, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Night, princess.”

“Good night.” 

Bellamy turned onto his side, facing away from her. He longed to comfort her. But he wanted it to be her choice. They were still navigating the early days of… _this_ , whatever they were, and though things were going well, he didn’t want to push her too far. 

He knew all too well that Clarke could be just as guarded as he was. 

But he would be patient, give her the time and space she needed to work through her tangled thoughts.

He’d just managed to slow his breathing when he heard Clarke huff in irritation beside him. Before he could ask, or move, he felt the mattress shift. Then her arm slid around his waist, coming to rest on his chest. She nestled closer, curving to fit against the line of his body in what he could only describe as a perfect fit. He could feel her face pressed between his shoulder blades, felt her lips move against his back when she spoke.

“Is this good?”

Bellamy smiled into the darkness, his hand covering hers. “Yeah. It’s good.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the comments! seriously, they always make my day <3  
> the fluff parade continues!

Clarke awoke to the sound of a car alarm going off outside. Drowsily, she blinked against the sunlight that streamed in through the blinds. With a mumbled protest, she snuggled back into her pillow.

Then the pillow shifted, and her eyes opened again. She registered the smell of soap and fresh linen, slowly realizing she wasn’t in her own bed. Her arm was wrapped tightly around something - no, _someone._ She took in the black fabric, following it up until she found familiar olive skin. 

Of course. Her pillow was Bellamy. 

Her body was curved around his in nearly the same position they’d fallen asleep in the night before. It was just as wonderful now as it had been hours ago. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest where her hand remained curled under his. 

The car alarm stopped abruptly, and she sighed into the silence. Then the sound began again in earnest. Bellamy grunted sleepily, making her smile. She itched to place her mouth on his neck, to pepper kisses up to his jaw until he was forced to roll over so she could kiss him properly. All she wanted was to spend a lazy morning in bed with him.

And yet part of her was still scared. Not because of what she wanted, but because of _how much_ she wanted it. Wanted him. She had resolved not to ever need someone that much, so that when they inevitably hurt her she could move on. But this had crept up on her like a calm summer rain that suddenly turned into a downpour, sweeping her along in a flood until she realized her heart was no longer hers. 

It was terrifying.

But this was also Bellamy, and before her mind could properly begin to freak out, he’d turned in her grip and covered her mouth with his in that lazy kiss she’d been craving. Her limbs loosened, her mind calmed, and all she could focus on was his soft lips saying good morning. When he finally pulled back, he rested his elbows on either side of her face. His fingers toyed absently with her hair.

When he smiled, her heart crashed into her stomach.

“Hey princess.” His voice was lower than usual, rough with sleep. _Oh,_ she thought distractedly, _I could get used to that._

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Did you know, whenever you’re thinking too hard you get this little crease right here,” Bellamy kissed her forehead, directly between her eyes. “What could you possibly be thinking about that intently before 9am?”

Clarke couldn’t help her soft laugh, because of course he already knew her well enough to know exactly what to say to stop the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. She leaned up to kiss him again, their fingers tangling together against the mattress. When they finally drew apart, the question lingered in his eyes even though he didn’t repeat it aloud.

So she didn’t beat around the bush. “You know what happened with Finn?” She thought he did but wanted confirmation.

Bellamy’s eyes flashed in anger, a muscle working in his jaw. “I’ve heard things,” he said evenly.

“Long story short, he was dating me while he had a girlfriend back home. It went on for about a month. Then said girlfriend transferred to school here, and…” _and everything went to hell._ “Raven is the only good thing that came from that mess.” She searched his eyes. “I thought I knew him, but I didn’t.”

Bellamy’s hand tightened on her wrist. “You know _me._ ”

“I know I do,” she replied softly. Her thumb traced his lower lip as she cradled his cheek. “I do,” she repeated insistently. His eyes finally softened and he turned his head to kiss her palm.

“What scared me was that I gave up so much of myself to him so fast. I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again. No matter how much I want to,” she added, and Bellamy’s mouth lifted slightly. “I don’t- I don’t want to mess this up. I already care about you far more than I ever did him. But I just need to take it slow.”

Bellamy lowered his forehead to touch hers. “I’m right here, Clarke. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” She toyed with his lower lip until he released a small sigh.

“Princess,” he said, and she stopped at the question in his voice. “Should we… do you maybe want to keep this between us for a bit longer? Just until you feel comfortable with everything?” His hand brushed over her hair. “I know my sister’s been pushy about it, so if you want to keep this quiet I don’t mind at all.”

Clarke considered it. “What do you think?” She asked finally.

“I just want _you,_ ” he answered immediately, making her smile. “The rest is semantics.”

“So you wouldn’t mind having to sneak around?”

“It’d be worth it if it shuts everyone up. I’m serious,” he added at her chuckle. “Apparently everybody we know has an opinion about this. It would be nice to just be you and me for a while.”

There was no uncertainty in his eyes, just an honest tenderness that made her throat tighten. “I think I’d like that," she whispered. "Just for a little bit.” 

Bellamy smiled. “Then it’s settled.”

She wound her hands around his neck to keep him close, leaning up for another kiss. He broke away too soon, and when she pouted at his absence he ducked to trail his lips along her jaw up to her ear. Clarke’s eyes drifted shut at his gentle touch and she sighed. He chuckled softly against her skin. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

Just as he made his way back down her jaw, Clarke’s phone went off on the nightstand. Bellamy kissed her anyways, murmuring “No” directly into her mouth. 

She had absolutely no reason to argue.

~~~~~~~~

A week later, Clarke found herself bouncing curiously alongside him on the sidewalk. She tugged his hand again. “Where are we going?” 

Bellamy only smiled, the same mysterious smile he’d sent her way when she asked the same question five minutes ago. “Patience, princess. You’ll see.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned anyways. The only thing she’d been able to get out of him about tonight had been that yes, jeans would be fine, and no, there was no dress code, and yes, she might need a sweater.

Otherwise, he’d clammed up every time she brought up the topic. And it wasn’t like she could ask Octavia for advice, since they were still keeping their relationship rather private. Not that she minded at all. Honestly, it was nice to just get to know _him,_ without any prying eyes or ears.

Plus, they were maybe having a little too much fun sneaking around. Clarke would never be able to look at the coat closet in Myers the same way; especially not when the doorknob had carved itself into her hip multiple times over. _Seven minutes in heaven, indeed._

Though, she remembered rather proudly, her lipstick had left its mark on him more than once. It was all his fault she’d started wearing it again in the first place. Something about the color against his tanned skin made her a little nuts, and she quite liked the idea of marking him as hers in her own small way. Not to mention he texted her every time he located another smear of red. He seemed endlessly amused by her little obsession.

Tonight, she’d settled on a soft, shimmery pink - the safest option since she had no idea what he was up to.

“You know this was your idea, right?” Clarke pointed out for the hundredth time.

Bellamy only chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek as they walked. A backpack swung from his shoulder, nearly bulging at the zippers and peaking her curiosity to no end. They’d been sitting on his couch eating takeout before his shift a few nights ago when, out of the blue, he’d asked her out on a date.

She’d laughed, thinking he was teasing. “I think we’re kind of past that, don’t you?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she had put her food aside and tilted his face to hers. The tender look in his eyes had stolen her breath. “I want to treat you right,” he’d said softly, and damn if that hadn’t completely melted her heart.

She kissed him long and hard. “You already do.”

“So is that a yes?” He’d peeked up from under those long, dark lashes, and of course she’d been helpless but to agree.

Now they were strolling along the sidewalk down brightly lit city blocks in the direction of the river. Clarke had been alternately nervous and excited until she’d seen his face outside her door. From then on, the excitement had taken over, and now she fairly skipped down the street. Her enthusiasm didn’t go unnoticed by Bellamy, who only grinned and kept kissing her until she had to push him away for fear of her limbs giving out.

When they reached the river, she expected to cross the bridge. But Bellamy lead them down the steps beside the overpass to the small bike trail that ran underneath. From there, they joined others walking to the grassy knoll that paralleled the river. Clarke’s head swiveled in all directions as she tried to get some clue as to what was going on. People were already scattered on the grass, some sitting and others standing. She was so busy paying attention to everyone else that she almost ran right into Bellamy when he stopped.

He grinned, not missing a thing. Dropping his bag, he crouched and pulled out a navy blue blanket, which he spread over the ground. Clarke watched in surprise as he retrieved a large thermos and something that looked like a square lunchbag.

Bellamy motioned to the blanket. “Go ahead.” 

She sat down cross-legged on top of it, still looking around, and a second later he joined her, stretching out his long legs with a sigh.

“ _Now_ will you tell me?” She asked eagerly.

He chuckled. “So, during the summer you know how they usually do those weekly outdoor movies at the plaza?” At her nod, he continued. “Well they decided to show them here, too, starting in the spring. It’s just once a month, because it takes some effort to rig the projector and all, but…” 

Digging in his bag, he produced a rolled up flyer and handed it to her. Clarke opened it and yelped at the familiar picture.

“My Fair Lady?!” She looked up to see his hopeful grin. With a squeal, she tackled him in a hug, feeling his chest rumble against hers in a laugh. He held her tightly, pressing a relieved kiss to the shell of her ear.

“I so hoped that would be your reaction.”

Clarke pulled back but kept her arms around him. “We’re seriously going to watch My Fair Lady on a projector? Out here?” At his nod, she shook her head and studied the flyer again before looking back up at him, her mouth still hanging open. “How did you even find out about this?”

“A few guys came to The Ark a while back, asking if they could put up flyers around the place to promote the events.” Bellamy shrugged. “When I saw this month’s movie I thought of you immediately.”

Clarke cradled his face in her hands and kissed him solidly. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This is wonderful.”

Bellamy smiled and kissed her nose. “But there’s more.” He reached behind her to open the small bag. Inside were two carefully wrapped deli sandwiches, sour cream & onion chips, two soda cans, and a small box of her favorite double chocolate Milano cookies.

Clarke traced the contents in awe. “Bell, I can’t believe you did all this.”

A hand brushed gently over her hair. “I told you,” his voice was low in her ear. “I want to do this right.” 

Wordlessly, Clarke wrapped her arms around him again, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. At the moment, there was nothing she could say that would properly express just how grateful she was for his thoughtfulness. So she didn’t try, simply holding him close and hoping that would be enough.

When she drew back, Bellamy was beaming. He had just tucked a stray curl behind her ear when a voice sounded through the megaphone. They both turned to see someone perched precariously on two stacked crates, calling out directions to those setting up the projector.

Clarke released a happy sigh and reached for the sandwiches, handing one to Bellamy before unwrapping the other. Chicken salad, from the deli around the corner from his apartment. She murmured her approval and he grinned, digging into his own food.

The sun slowly began to set as they talked and ate, the sky splashed with bright shades of red and orange. The light danced over the river, turning the water into a myriad of colors on its own. Clarke tried to remember every detail about the evening, just knowing she wanted to capture it in a painting at some point.

“So where does O think you are?” Bellamy asked.

She waved a hand in dismissal. “She’s with Lincoln hunting down some of the spaces Sam picked out. She won’t be back tonight. But I told her I took an extra shift at the hospital, just in case.”

“How’s that going, with Lincoln?”

“Better, I think. She was really excited about today, actually. I think two of the places on the list had really good potential.” She smiled. “I’m sure I’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

“Probably. I think Sam might be just as excited.”

Clarke laughed at that, finishing her soda and tossing it into the plastic bag that was serving as their trash. Once they’d polished off the sandwiches and chips, Bellamy stood to throw out the bag into one of the huge trashcans along the sidewalk.

By this point, the grass was covered by a sea of colorful blankets. They were surrounded by friends and couples alike as the darkness descended over the sky. Clarke’s excitement grew as the projector flickered a few times. When Bellamy returned, he didn’t immediately sit down. Opening his backpack again, he pulled out another large blanket, this one plaid, as Clarke looked on curiously.

“How did you even fit all this in there?” 

He chuckled. “All I will say is it did not happen on the first try.”

She grinned up at him as he dropped the blanket over her shoulders. Instead of settling down beside her, he motioned for her to scoot up a little. When she did so, he sat behind her, a strong arm wrapping around her waist to pull her between the cradle of his legs. Clarke snuggled closer until her back was flush up against his chest. His knees rose on either side of her, his free hand tapping out an absent, nervous pattern until she took it and folded it around her front. 

Bellamy sighed, a small puff of breath on her shoulder. “Okay?” He asked.

 _Perfect._ She hadn’t intended to say it out loud, but she must have, because his soft chuckle sounded in her ear and his arms tightened a little. 

A few minutes later, a girl climbed atop the crates again to thank the crowd for coming and gave a brief overview of the movie. Then the small projector was turned on, and the screen came to life. As the opening credits started, Clarke turned her head to whisper directly into Bellamy’s ear.

“Best first date ever.”

His answering smile could have lit up the entire night sky.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got more of our babies together in one place! thank you all for reading and commenting so far, really, it's been so great to hear your feedback :D <3

Keeping things quiet worked rather well for the first couple of weeks. Neither was particularly into PDA to begin with, and some days their schedules made it impossible to even meet up. So Clarke ended up spending many nights at Bellamy’s apartment, sometimes staying awake late into the night (or morning) talking and kissing, and other times so tired she just collapsed next to him and didn’t wake for hours. 

Her friends didn’t seem to notice a difference. Octavia was busier than ever - between school, dance practice and Lincoln, Clarke was lucky if she managed to give her a hug when they collided outside the apartment on occasion. Raven, she saw nearly every day during their class breaks, so nothing changed there. Now and then they managed to drag Octavia to lunch, too.

Aside from the usual teasing from both girls, Clarke was surprisingly happy at how well things had turned out. 

Until Octavia decided they needed to have a surprise housewarming party for Bellamy.

 _Party_ was a loose term, Clarke thought dryly as she looked around at their small group. It consisted of Octavia, Lincoln, Jasper, Monty, and Raven. While they were arguing over pizza toppings, she discreetly sent Bellamy a text. 

_FYI, ambush underway at your place. O’s idea._

Her phone buzzed seconds later. _Don’t let the kids see my french maid outfit._

Clarke’s snort of laughter was received with many puzzled looks. She excused herself and slipped into the bathroom to compose herself. When she emerged, they had decided on ordering several pizzas with a variety of toppings - pineapple for Octavia, pepperoni for the boys, barbecue chicken for Raven. Clarke murmured her approval.

“Should probably get one with black olives for Bell,” she added without thinking.

Octavia’s eyebrows shot up and she smirked triumphantly. “Yeah,” she drawled, “ _Bell_ sure does love them.”

Her flush was immediate, but Clarke managed to roll her eyes anyways as she grabbed a drink and sat on the floor next to Jasper. 

“Tell us, Clarke,” Raven jumped in gleefully, “what else does _Bell_ like?”

Clarke held up her middle finger and both girls erupted in laughter. She looked around helplessly. “Lincoln, please get your girlfriend drunk. Now.”

He gave her a bemused smile that said he didn’t envy her one bit. “Are we really sure that will help?” 

It was Clarke’s turn to laugh as Octavia’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. Thankfully, Jasper had started drinking a little early and was eager for everyone to get to his level. Clarke did her best to pay attention to the conversation and not keep glancing at the door. Yet she couldn’t help but still and sit up a little straighter when she heard familiar footsteps in the hall. There was no mistaking Bellamy’s slow, deliberate gait. A few seconds later, Octavia shushed them all.

The key turned in the lock, and then Bellamy swung the door open to loud cheers (led mostly by Octavia). A look of shock crossed his face immediately, though his eyes lingered on Clarke with a glint of amusement. His sister hopped up to give him a hug before tugging him inside.

“You are required to have fun tonight,” she announced. “The pizza is on its way, and you have a healthy choice of booze.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Bellamy didn’t bother fighting his grin. He shrugged off his jacket, dropping his keys on the small table and rolling his shoulders in a familiar gesture. Clarke managed to look away just as he glanced over. He plucked a beer from the counter and then ambled over to where she sat, settling down next to her without a second thought. 

“Hey princess. I see they dragged you into this as well.”

“Mhm. Pizza and drinks. Didn’t take much dragging.” She smiled easily. She could feel Octavia and Raven watching them closely and tried desperately not to laugh. Twisting her head as if she was looking over her shoulder, she whispered, “I think we have an audience.”

Bellamy took one look at them and pulled out his phone.

“Calling for backup?” Clarke muttered under her breath.

He shot her a sly grin that gave her goosebumps. “Something like that.”

The pizza arrived soon after, and for a while they all talked comfortably in the midst of eating and drinking. Bellamy’s face lit up when he opened the box with olives. “This looks great, O. Thanks.”

“Actually,” Octavia grinned widely and Clarke had to bite back her groan, knowing what was coming. “You can thank Clarke for that.”

Bellamy looked over at her and she shrugged, snagging a few pineapple slices for herself. He didn’t say a word, but a tiny smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. This time when he sat next to her, their shoulders brushed together and he stayed there.

Jasper and Octavia soon got into an eager discussion about the latest movie they'd seen, something about a girl who discovered she was the heir to Earth and had to fight an intergalactic war with the help of... well, it got complicated real fast. Raven, never one to stay quiet for long, interrupted to voice her opinion - based solely on the trailer, of course, because she refused to waste money on that movie when she could be binging on Netflix instead. Bellamy didn’t speak too much, mostly nodding along or grinning at the others’ antics. 

Clarke was a little too distracted by his presence just inches away. Her eyes kept drifting back to the chorded lines of muscle in his arms, the tousled dark curls that dropped over his forehead. It also didn’t escape her that he kept rolling his neck like there was a knot that just wouldn’t loosen. 

An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Wick and Miller stood outside with matching grins and more bottles of liquor. Bellamy invited them in only after a quick, stern statement that was too low for her to hear but sounded like a warning. Clarke had to cover her laugh at Raven’s slack-jawed expression when Wick plopped down next to her.

Miller waved at Clarke with a smile. “Nice to see you again.”

When Clarke waved back, Octavia perked up instantly. “You know each other?” The bottle swung dangerously in her grip as she pointed between them.

“Yeah, we met once right when my shift ended,” Miller replied.

“You went to The Ark without me?!”

Clarke winced at her shrill tone and held up her hands. “You weren’t even home,” she protested.

Bellamy’s shoulders shook with a laugh. “Relax, O. I forgot my keys one night and the princess was nice enough to drop them off.”

Though his voice was steady, there was a long moment of suspicious glances before Clarke threw a small piece of pineapple at her friend. She squealed and laughed, and then they were back to normal. It was several minutes before Clarke chanced a look at Bellamy. He winked.

It was incredibly unfair. She wasn’t supposed to notice the way his fingers tapped on his knee or the way one corner of his mouth always lifted higher than the other in a lopsided grin. The simple brush of his hand against her leg or back shouldn’t have been able to make her jump the way it did. 

She was fairly certain he was doing it on purpose.

She was fairly certain that she was very, very screwed.

~~~~~~~~ 

At Octavia’s insistence, they started a game of Never Have I Ever. “Never have I ever… left the country.”

Monty, Lincoln, Raven and Clarke all took a swig. Bellamy looked over in surprise and she grinned. “I went to Germany with my mom one summer. She was offered a teaching position at one of the hospitals and thought it would be a good experience for me to tag along.”

“Wow. That’s awesome.”

“My turn,” Raven announced. “Never have I ever… fallen asleep in the library.”

“That’s just not fair,” Clarke protested. When the others only laughed, she stuck out her tongue before gulping down the last of her beer. She looked over at Miller.

“What gifts did you bring?”

He nodded at the counter and she wandered over, looking over the alcohol until she noticed a six pack that hadn’t been there before. She glanced over her shoulder in surprise, but Bellamy was grinning at something his sister was saying. Clarke snapped the lid off the java stout and wandered back to her spot. With her back to the room, she mouthed a quick _thank you_ to Bellamy. He smiled. 

“Clarke, your turn!”

She thought a moment. “Never have I ever… put on a cheerleading uniform.”

“Ugh, that was _one_ time,” Octavia groaned.

Miller nearly choked when Jasper took a meek sip as well. “Wait wait wait. Explain!”

The others sputtered in shock. “It was a dare,” the boy muttered as Monty looked on smugly. Raven was howling with laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. Clarke patted his shoulder apologetically. 

“I’m sorry. I really had no idea.”

“That’s the fun of the game,” Octavia grinned. “Bell, you’re up.”

His eyebrows drew together in thought. “Never have I ever… worn high heels.” Clarke blinked in surprise as his eyes smiled back at her. She ducked her head, flushing deeply, and took a drink. So did the other two girls.

“Cheap shot,” Raven muttered. 

“Nobody said I had to play fair. Miller, go for it.”

“Never have I ever… been hit on by a dude.” Though all three girls groaned, his grin was directed solely at Bellamy, whose glare might have killed a lesser man. Clarke burst into surprised giggles. She opened her mouth to ask, but Raven got there first.

“What?!” Her shrill voice made them all look at Wick, who’d just taken a large swig of his beer. He shrugged.

“Perks of being a bartender.”

Clarke shook Bellamy’s shoulder, still laughing. He smiled sheepishly and finished his beer in a gulp. As soon as he’d retrieved another, Octavia jumped in with a sly grin. “Never have I ever… been trapped in an elevator.”

Both Clarke and Bellamy held up a middle finger as they took a drink.

“Wait, when was this?” Miller asked curiously.

“Last semester. During that bad storm with the stupid name. Molly?”

“Dolly,” Clarke corrected absently. She was biting her cheek incredibly hard in an effort not to smile. “Your turn, Lincoln.”

And so they went. Clarke found herself having fun as they all discovered new tidbits around each other. When she started swaying against Bellamy a little too hard, she reached for the nearest pizza box and began chewing on a cold slice. He shot her a knowing grin that did nothing to calm her pulse.

Jasper and Monty were the first to take off, despite Octavia’s loud protests. But when she found out they were going to a house party where Jasper’s crush currently resided, she all but kicked them out the door.

Eventually the yawns began in earnest, and Clarke stood to pile the empty pizza boxes in a corner. The bottles clanked as they were gathered together in one spot. Bellamy’s hand rested on her waist a little longer than necessary as he leaned around her to grab a large trash bag from under the counter.

When she turned, Octavia was stretched out on the couch, her head in Lincoln’s lap. Both looked close to passing out right there. Raven slumped against the wall, already asleep. Clarke smiled as Wick threw a blanket over her, carefully tucking her in. Then he and Miller approached Bellamy, giving him small fist bumps before waving at her and leaving. 

Bellamy heaved the trash bag over his shoulder and looked to Clarke with a small smile. “Care to join me?”

“You sure know how to woo a girl.” 

He muffled a laugh as she grabbed the pizza boxes and followed him into the hall. With both her hands occupied, Clarke could only squeak when she was pulled against his side and his mouth descended on hers. He tasted of the beer he’d been drinking all night, and she nearly dropped the boxes so that she could pull him closer. Sensing as much, Bellamy pulled away with a grin.

“How’s that for wooing?” He nibbled at her ear until she let out a small moan.

“Better,” she managed, and he kissed her one more time before they finally made it down the stairs.

After chucking the boxes and bag into the dumpster, he turned to her. “So how-”

He grunted in surprise as his back hit the wall. Clarke twisted her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a proper kiss. Her nails raked against his scalp as she pressed against him, craving more. With a groan, he lifted her to her toes and returned the kiss fiercely and deeply until they were both gasping for air. As they caught their breath, she smugly noted that Bellamy remained rather dazed. She laid small kisses along his neck, slowly dragging her mouth upwards until he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and crushed their mouths together again. His hands tangled into her hair and gave a small tug, eliciting a squeak of pleasure from her.

“Damn princess.” His voice was ragged when they finally pulled apart. “I would have kicked everyone out hours ago if I knew you were gonna jump me like that.”

“Shut up.” The words came out too high-pitched but it was hard to care with Bellamy’s arms wrapped around her.

His mouth eased over hers again, this time in a gentle caress that left her trembling in his grip. Bellamy sighed and dropped his forehead to hers. “Do we have to go back?”

Her hands wandered along his back. “Probably.”

“Or,” he bit her lower lip, “we could go to your place.”

“And when your sister comes looking…?” She questioned.

“Why do you have to be so logical?”

“Don’t pretend it’s not a turn on.”

Bellamy laughed and pulled her close for another kiss. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me sleep alone.”

“I’ll be sleeping alone too,” she reminded him with a pout.

“I’m kicking them out first thing in the morning.”

Clarke twisted her hands into his curls and leaned up for another lingering kiss. It took them a few more minutes to finally head back, and even then she couldn’t help but bury her nose into the soft material of his shirt for a moment longer. They separated right before walking in the door, and Clarke had to stifle a giggle into her palm just seconds later. Lincoln looked over helplessly with Octavia now deeply asleep in his lap on the couch. With a small smile, Bellamy shook his head.

“She’ll sleep through anything.” He looked over at Clarke, scooping up his sister easily. “You girls can share the bed. Lincoln and I will camp out over here.”

“Bell, no-”

“I’ve got a sleeping bag and plenty of blankets. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor when there’s a bed five feet away,” he cut in firmly. To Lincoln, he said, “Can you grab Reyes?”

Clarke trailed after the two boys, watching Bellamy gently lay his sleeping sister on the mattress. Raven landed next to her, with just enough room for Clarke to wedge herself in. Bellamy dug into his closet and emerged with a sleeping bag and a few extra blankets. She took a pillow from the bed and handed it to Lincoln. Her two friends were fast asleep, so she slipped back out into the living room as Bellamy spread out extra blankets on the floor.

“Where did all these come from anyways?” She asked.

“Octavia gets really cold at night. And she always falls asleep in the most random spots,” Bellamy chuckled. “After a while I just started getting throws and quilts to leave basically in every room.”

“Bellamy.” They both turned to Lincoln. “It’s your apartment, you should at least take the couch.”

“You sure? I know O said you had a back problem…”

Lincoln reared back a little in surprise, but then he smiled. “Yeah. That’s actually why the floor would be better for me in this case.”

Clarke was nodding. “He’s right. It would be.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything else.” Bellamy moved to situate himself on the couch while Lincoln crawled into the sleeping bag. Soft snores filled the apartment just minutes later, and the two exchanged an amused look.

“That was fast,” Clarke grinned.

“Right?” Bellamy plopped down on the couch, dropping his head with a sigh and rolling his shoulders again. Concerned, she sat next to him on her knees and put her hand on his neck. 

“You’ve been doing that all night. What happened?”

“Dunno. Some kind of knot or something that just won’t go away.”

“Maybe you slept weird.” Clarke was already pressing her fingers to the spot, trying to work out the tightness under the skin. “You really should take the bed.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness but continued to gently massage the area. When he couldn’t help the slight hiss that escaped, she paused. “Good or bad?”

“Good.”

She kept going, applying pressure and digging her thumbs into his skin to work away the tension. Bellamy was releasing small sighs and murmuring in agreement as her fingers continued to work away. Slowly, the line of his shoulders eased and his head dropped until he was nearly curled over. “You should be more careful,” she scolded lightly. “It looks like you strained something. Were you lifting anything heavy the past few days?”

“Well I did just move.”

“That was nearly three weeks ago. This just started.”

“Watching me that closely, princess?” There was a smile in his voice.

“Bellamy…”

“A shipment came in at the bar last night,” he mumbled sleepily. “Just picked up the stuff and put it away as usual.”

Clarke pursed her lips and moved her hands down his back, giving more attention to the lower muscles until she pressed a spot that made him jump and stutter. He grabbed her hands before she could try again. “Maybe not there unless you want to give Lincoln a show,” he grinned.

She turned beet red as she realized what he meant, swatting at him even as she catalogued the small tidbit for future use. Bellamy was chuckling as he pulled her against him for a moment. “Thank you,” he said into her hair. “That really did help a lot.”

She nodded, snuggling closer into his chest with a small sigh.

“Clarke,” he whined, “you’re not making this any easier.”

“Whatever. It’d take an earthquake to wake everyone right now. And even then your sister might still be asleep.”

His chest rumbled against hers as he laughed into her shoulder. Eventually she pulled away and stood, though he held onto her hand a moment longer. His mouth ran over her knuckles in the lightest of kisses. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Clarke leaned down as if to kiss him, running her hand lightly down his side. “You too,” she murmured, and pressed her fingers into that spot on his lower back. He jumped and let out a low curse. 

It was very difficult not to laugh as she escaped into his room.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter kinda became a beast, so apologies in advance for the length. There's a lot going on, but I swear I have this planned out. Also, a teensy bit of angst slipped in there but it's sandwiched between a whole lotta fluff. As always, thank you for all the feedback/encouragement with this story! :)

Clarke cursed for the third time as she slowly made her way up the stairs, trying not to jostle the brown paper grocery bag that she carried. It was so tall it nearly blocked her view, and she had to alternately peek around it or simply pray that she wouldn’t topple over. She’d barely avoided a mishap a few steps ago on the first floor. Not to mention the steps outside the building had been more than ready to send her flying. 

She sighed with relief as she hit the second landing, thankful for the even floor as she walked down the hall. Her nerves were at an all-time high as she knocked on Bellamy’s door. Slow footsteps sounded, and then it opened to his surprised face. “Clarke?”

“Hey. Sorry to come by like this, but I need your help.” She barged in quickly and set the heavy bag down on the table. 

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he closed the door. “What’s up?”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “ _Your sister_ left me alone with all this food that we spent forever cooking, and I really need someone to eat with. Because it’s just too delicious to eat alone.”

His mouth lifted. “Is it now?”

She threw an arm out as if to say, _see for yourself._ Though he still looked a little suspicious, his curiosity got the better of him and he reached inside the bag. Soon the contents covered the counter - the warm casserole with the cheese bubbling on top, the bright greens and reds and orange of the salad in the bowl, and the small packs of dressing she’d snatched on several trips to the cafeteria. 

Bellamy cocked an eyebrow. “You seriously made this?”

“Hey.” She hit his arm lightly. “I’m not completely useless in the kitchen, you know.”

Now he did smile, leaning closer to sniff the casserole. “How did O even walk away?”

“I have no idea. But it’s way too much for one person. And I can’t just let it go to leftovers. I mean come on.” Clarke folded her arms expectantly.

“Honestly I’m proud just looking at it.” He grinned and moved towards the cupboard for plates, and she had to resist a triumphant smile of her own. The casserole hadn’t been too difficult, once she found the right recipe. At first she’d wondered if he would think it too simple. But for someone with as limited cooking experience as her, it was hard not to be proud of her creation. _A heart attack in a bowl,_ she’d thought dryly. 

But seeing as her mouth had watered simply by reading the recipe, she knew it was worth it. Rice, chicken, refried beans, some enchilada sauce and extra seasoning for taste, along with cheese sprinkled on top. Plus a few things she’d added at the last minute. Green onions, because she knew Bellamy loved them, and an extra dash (okay, handful) of chili pepper to kick the spiciness up a notch.

The salad had been a last-minute idea, a feeble attempt to counter the heaviness of the casserole. She’d tried to mimic what Bellamy had done when he cooked for them all those weeks ago, throwing in peppers, onions and shredded carrots with the lettuce and spinach. Belatedly, she’d remembered black olives - another favorite of his. She may or may not have dumped in far too many. All in all, the whole thing had turned out quite colorful, and she hoped it would do.

Bellamy had already heaped food on his plate and was settled on the couch. Clarke hurried to do the same, pretending not to watch from the corner of her eye as he took a bite. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until his eyes closed and he made a noise of approval. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder when she sat next to him.

“This is really great, Clarke. Thanks.”

She beamed despite herself. “Of course. So what’re you watching?” She crossed her legs under her and got comfy, bringing the plate into her lap. “Is that Matt Damon?”

He nodded, giving her a brief overview of the plot before hitting play. Clarke honestly couldn’t have repeated the summary back to him if he’d asked. Her mind was still too delighted by the fact that he was enjoying the food. _Her_ food.

She hadn’t wanted to be too obvious about the whole thing. Honestly, she had just wanted to do something nice. Bellamy deserved to have someone take care of him for once, instead of the other way around. But she thought he would prefer it if she didn’t make it a big deal, so she hadn’t. 

And the story about Octavia was partially true. She _had_ gone to meet Lincoln, and she _had_ helped with meal ideas. But Clarke hadn’t specified what it was for, just saying that she was trying to branch out and try new things. 

Again, technically not untrue. 

She grinned as Bellamy went back for seconds, happily noting that the salad was emptying as well. When they were done eating, he paused the movie to load the dishwasher as Clarke busied herself by wrapping up the leftovers. “That was really good,” he said again. “Did you guys find the recipe online?”

“Yeah, I went to a few different sites until I found something I thought was manageable for beginners.” She returned his grin. “I added a few things of my own too, just to experiment, but mostly I stuck to the recipe.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Just things like the green onions in the casserole, olives in the salad. The salad was basically a big dumping ground of veggies,” she chuckled. “Oh, and there was a _lot_ of chili pepper involved.”

“And where was Octavia during all of this?” His voice sounded a bit off, but her back was to him as she snapped the lid on the salad bowl.

“Well I mean, I made a lot of it while she was in class, but she helped me out with finding the ingredients beforehand. And then Lincoln ended up doing some special last-minute thing for her so I told her to go ahead.”

All very true statements. Bellamy hummed a little, his fingers tapping a random pattern on the counter. “So… she didn’t object to the onions?”

“Nope.” She kept her voice steady while trying to figure out why there was laughter in his voice.

“That’s odd, because my sister hates green onions. With quite the passion.” 

_Shit._ Clarke gripped the salad container a little too tightly. “Are you sure?” She asked, not looking up. “I’ve never heard her say so.”

“You mean when I cooked dinner last month at your place and she specifically yelled _do not put any sort of onion in the sauce_ , you didn’t hear that? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you were sitting right next to her when it happened.”

Somehow she’d forgotten that Bellamy had such a shrewd memory. _Stay cool, stay cool._ “Guess I forgot. It's a good thing she didn't stick around to eat it, then.”

“Uh huh.” Bellamy’s voice was far too confident for her liking. She gulped and began to put the items away in the fridge, taking her time. “So,” he drawled slowly, “what made you choose those particular ingredients, anyways?” 

He knew. He totally knew, and now he was just teasing her. Even so, Clarke hung onto her denial for a little longer, settling on what she hoped was a casual, nondescript shrug. She still refused to turn around.

“Because it turns out, I happen to know someone who _loves_ onions and olives,” Bellamy announced, and _damn,_ she just _knew_ he was smirking now.

Yeah, she was busted.

With a defeated sigh, Clarke put her face in her hands as the blood rushed into her cheeks, hearing Bellamy's soft chuckle. It just figured that the one ingredient she deviated from the recipe would be the detail that got her caught. Seconds later, his arms curled around her waist in a snug hold. His chin rested on her shoulder, the stubble tickling her skin.

“Clarke,” he whispered, “did you cook me dinner?”

She didn’t reply. Bellamy's lips curved up and he nipped gently at the spot below her ear that always made her hold on to him a little tighter. This time was no different. 

Her hands left her face to clutch at his arms, her neck arching despite everything. Bellamy peppered a trail of soft kisses along her skin before twisting her to face him. She leaned against the counter, feeling his arms come around either side to cage her in. Her fingers hooked around his belt loops as she kept her head down, unable to look at him just yet.

“It’s not a big deal,” she murmured. “You’ve been so good to me. I just wanted to do… _something_ for you.”

His arms slid around her again, holding her close. “Princess,” was all he said, but the nickname was so full of quiet wonder and adoration that Clarke finally had to raise her eyes to his. His smile was dazzling, and despite her embarrassment, she knew she’d do it all over just to see him smile like that again.

“You didn’t have to do any of this.” He held a finger to her lips to stop her protest. “But thank you. Really.” He was still smiling when his mouth covered hers in a sweet kiss that stole her breath.

~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Clarke awoke in pitch blackness, trying to locate the odd sound that had roused her. It had been something like a whimper, but she couldn’t be sure if it was just her imagination. Then she heard it again and twisted her head. Bellamy had his back to her, but his body shook with every other breath. He was clutching the blanket tightly, murmuring incoherently into his pillow.

She was so thrown by the sight that it took her nearly a full minute to move. Leaning over, she took him by the shoulders and rolled him to his back. A tear leaked out as he protested, and she put her full weight atop him, taking his head in her hands.

“Bellamy, it’s alright. It’s me, it’s Clarke. Wake up.” She shook him gently. “Come on, Bell. Open your eyes.”

He finally did, his gaze that of a lost child until it refocused onto her. “Clarke?”

“It’s me.” She stroked his cheek soothingly, her thumb wiping away the tear track. “It’s okay,” she murmured quietly. She brought her forehead down to his, willing his breathing to slow and match hers. The room was completely silent except for Bellamy’s harsh breaths. When he seemed calmer, she slid slowly off him, intending to pull back.

But his arms wound tightly around her waist, holding her close. His head dipped to lie on her shoulder, and she could see his chest still rising and falling heavily. Clarke pressed her lips to his forehead, murmuring reassurances into the dark. Her hands combed through his hair, wrapping tightly around his shoulders until his breathing finally evened out against her skin.

~~~~~~~~

When she woke up next, daylight streamed in through the curtains. Several things registered at once: Bellamy’s arm curled around her waist; his warm, slow breaths against the back of her neck; her bare foot sandwiched between both of his. She laid there for a few minutes, unaware of the small smile that had formed on her face. 

When Bellamy finally stirred, she felt it in the way his breathing hitched, how his arm tightened and then relaxed, as if unsure how to react. She put her hand over his and turned to face him. He was looking at her uncertainly.

“You stayed.” There was a trace of awe in his voice that made her want to cry.

“Of course I did.” She smiled and lifted her head to kiss him softly. His hand tangled in her hair, keeping their mouths locked together until she was short of breath. Then Clarke pressed a small kiss to his shirt, directly over his heart. “You don’t have to talk about it. But I’m here if you need me.”

“No, I… you should know.” Bellamy closed his eyes for a moment. “Next month will be six years since mom died. I don’t- I don’t usually dream like that anymore, but sometimes…it just... I can't always...”

Clarke touched his cheek when he couldn't continue. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I know. I’m not going anywhere, Bellamy.”

She met his gaze steadily until he released a small sigh and hugged her close, whispering thanks into her hair. Her head dropped to his chest as she wrapped an arm around his torso, content to stay there. His hand drifted idly up and down her back, occasionally tapping out a pattern along her spine. 

Only the loud blaring of his phone made them move. Bellamy stretched an arm out to grab it from his dresser, smiling when he saw the name. “Hey O,” he answered.

“Good morning big brother.” Clarke heard the echo of her cheery voice filter through the speaker. “Rise and shine! I made pancakes.”

They both scrunched their eyebrows in unison. “What?” Bellamy asked.

“Don’t be mad. But I made a copy of your key and snuck in early this morning to make you breakfast.”

Clarke’s mouth dropped open as Bellamy sat up suddenly, pulling her with him. He rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Wait a second. You’re in my living room?”

“Your kitchen. But yes.”

He looked at Clarke, who muffled her laugh against his shirt. Of course this would happen. “Be out in a sec.” He stared at the phone for a minute longer, his mouth hanging open.

She grinned and poked him. “Go eat with your sister.”

“But what about you?”

“I’m comfy here. Plus I think I have bio notes in my bag somewhere…”

“Of course you do.” He smiled and kissed her soundly, dragging his mouth along her jaw until she finally shoved him away and pointed at the door. He pouted but swung his legs off the bed and shuffled outside, closing the door firmly behind him. Clarke giggled to herself and fell back against the pillows for a minute longer. 

Part of her toyed with the idea of simply staying there. It was awfully tempting… she shook her head, getting up to dig around in her bag. Just as she found her notebook, the door opened again and Bellamy strode in determinedly.

She looked at him in confusion. “What-?”

He grasped her elbow and pulled her up, shifting her in front of him and planting his hands on his shoulders to propel her forward. Clarke was nearly to the door before she realized what was happening and tried to dig her heels in, all the while arguing quietly.

“Bellamy, wait- you don’t have to-”

“Actually O, can you make some extra pancakes?” He called out loudly, overriding her protest with a cheeky grin.

“Extra?” Octavia was standing by the stove, spatula in hand. “Why would we need-”

She stopped abruptly as they came into view, and Clarke resisted the urge to put her face in her hands. There was a long moment of silence as she dropped her eyes, studying the overlong hem of Bellamy’s sweatpants where they dragged on the floor over her feet. Her face burned with a flush she was sure extended to the rest of her body. Then Bellamy’s arms slid down to loop around her, pulling her against his chest with a low chuckle. When Clarke finally peeked up, she found Octavia beaming. 

“Seriously?”

_Seriously._

At their sheepish nods, she let out a shriek and bounded towards them, spatula still in hand. Bellamy released his grip on Clarke just in time for Octavia to tackle her in a fierce hug. “I knew it I knew it _Iknewit!_ ”

Clarke stumbled but managed to stay upright, returning the embrace with a soft laugh. Octavia threw herself at her brother next, whispering something into his ear that made him poke her repeatedly in warning. 

She was still smiling brightly when she pulled back and set her hands on her hips. “Took you long enough.” Her mouth dropped as she looked at Clarke. “Wait a sec…” Octavia skipped over to the fridge and checked inside, yelping triumphantly when she saw the leftovers. “ _This_ is why you spent all that time the other day getting groceries and quizzing me about our eating habits?”

 _Oh, god._ Now Clarke did put a hand over her face. “Octavia-”

But she was just getting started. Looking at her brother, she pointed at Clarke. “ _This_ girl spent nearly two hours dragging me from store to store until she could find the right ingredients for this recipe that she took _ages_ to find online. Seriously, she has about a hundred bookmarks that weren’t there last week. And _then_ she was asking me all these roundabout questions, ‘Did you and Bellamy _this,_ and you and Bellamy that…” she trailed off with a delighted squeal as Clarke tried not to burst into flames on the spot. Bellamy was standing directly behind her. He didn’t say a word, but she couldn’t bring herself to even look at him. 

“I’m going to brush my teeth,” she said quickly, and made her escape. Never mind that this wasn’t her bathroom and she certainly did not have a toothbrush. She sat down on the closed toilet seat with a sigh, finally letting the smile creep onto her face. As mortifying as that had been, there was a certain wonderful relief to Octavia knowing about them. Almost like it finally confirmed that it wasn’t all just a dream. 

This - she and Bellamy - were real. They were doing this. And it felt incredible.

When Clarke emerged, still flushed but a little calmer, both siblings were in the kitchen talking. She took the opportunity to slip back into the bedroom and find her hoodie, slipping it on over her tank top. As she tugged her hair into a sloppy ponytail, Bellamy walked in and closed the door, leaning against it with an infuriating smirk.

 _So much for calming down._ Clarke crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “A little warning would have been nice.”

The smile faltered just a little. “I know it was spontaneous. Are you mad?”

If only. She shook her head and he took a few steps towards her. “You know there’s no going back now,” she teased, but the dip in her voice gave her away.

Bellamy’s hands found hers, lacing their fingers together. “I was going to tell her, Clarke.” There was a firm conviction in his words that made her heart leap. “I wanted to tell her. It was just a matter of when and where. And then this happened, and it kind of felt like, why not?”

He gave her a lopsided grin and she couldn’t resist pulling him a bit closer. “I’m glad you did,” she admitted softly. “Even if she does have a big mouth.”

Bellamy laughed outright, kissing her warmly. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me,” he whispered afterwards.

“It was just dinner,” she said weakly, but he shook his head and nuzzled her cheek.

“It was much more than that.”

Clarke didn’t know how to reply so she just kissed him again, rising to her tiptoes and threading her fingers through his hair. Only when Octavia loudly yelled at them to “unlock their mouths long enough to eat the pancakes I slaved over” did they break apart, Bellamy with a snort and Clarke with a deep blush that was in serious danger of becoming permanent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn’t want the dreams thing to come out of nowhere but I felt like it was only something that would come up with time, as Clarke got close enough to really see it. There's one more chapter later with details, but I just wanted to plant the seed! Also, the recipe from earlier is totally a real thing, and it’s delicious.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> telling more people!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg, I'm so sorry for the delay. this week was insanity. on top of that I'm still having palpitations from Wed's ep. anyways, here you go - have some fluff! :)

“We have to tell Raven,” Clarke said firmly.

Bellamy’s mouth barely paused in its path down her neck. “Okay.”

She tugged at his hair despite arching under him. “Seriously, Bell. She’ll kill me if she finds out from anyone else. Especially if Octavia gets there first.”

His teeth nipped at her pulse, pulling a gasp from her throat. His chuckle vibrated against her as she swatted his shoulder. “I said okay,” he mumbled, soothing the bite with his tongue. Clarke fought to regain her train of thought.

“I mean it,” she insisted a few minutes later. “She’ll actually kill me.”

Bellamy finally raised his head and gently kissed her cheek. “I believe you. She’s quite terrifying for someone so small.”

“So we’ll tell her tomorrow,” she said. “I have lecture at 10 but she usually meets me right after for lunch. You should come too.”

“I’ll be there,” he promised. 

Clarke smiled and leaned up for a proper kiss. It was slow and lingering, and she sank further into the cushions in a hazy comfort. Then Bellamy returned to his original mission, trailing his mouth along her skin as she squirmed beneath him. They were twined together on the couch in her apartment, having given up all pretense of studying. _It was all his fault,_ she thought distractedly. If he would have just looked at his books instead of looking at her with that soft smile and those dark, curious eyes, she wouldn’t have given in so easily. 

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

She sighed his name and felt his fingers dig into her hip. “We- we should move, in case Octavia-”

“Dance practice until 6, then a shift at the diner til 11,” he mumbled into her shoulder. 

“Oh. Well.” She swallowed. “That’s…uh… ”

“Convenient?” His smirk was infuriating.

Clarke couldn’t believe her lack of vocabulary when it came to him sometimes. And yet, her mind was a total blank as he looked up at her through dark lashes, that full mouth curved in an unfairly seductive smile.

~~~~~~~

Bellamy wasn’t sure what to expect as he headed down the hallway. Clarke’s lecture would be over at any minute, and as he’d agreed, he was meeting her and Raven afterwards. He had no idea how her friend would respond. He was kind of hoping Clarke would take the lead with the whole thing, seeing as he and Raven didn’t interact much on their own - well, outside of that one night they’d both agreed was just a bad idea in every sense. 

It would have been a lie to say he wasn’t relieved that Clarke was already aware of it. As much as he disliked the memory, it had been something he told her early on, only to find her smiling at his nervousness. She’d kissed him solidly and assured that as long as it didn’t happen again - with _anyone_ \- past was past.

Not for the first time - nor the last, he suspected - he'd realized just how grateful he was to have Clarke in his life.

Bellamy was still smiling to himself when he rounded the corner, expecting another empty hallway. Instead, the small foyer already filled with students, lingering and talking, and he realized the class must have let out early. It didn’t take him long to locate the head of blonde hair by the staircase. But the smile vanished from Bellamy’s face as soon as he took in the situation. 

Clarke was standing stiffly next to Raven, her head bowed and hands clenched at her sides. Finn Collins stood in front of her. He was speaking urgently, and though she nodded, her eyes were hooded and she looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Raven just looked more pissed off than usual, which was saying something. 

Bellamy didn’t much care what the conversation was about. He only had eyes for Clarke, unable to stand how she was practically withdrawing before his eyes. The anger that filled him was swift and overwhelming. He marched over to where they stood. 

With just a loud, “Hey, princess,” he took Clarke into his arms and fit his mouth to hers. 

The kiss was short but emphatic, lasting just long enough that her fingers twisted into the collar of his jacket. Bellamy couldn’t help but return for a quick peck, watching the now-familiar touch of pink that colored her face. Keeping his arms snugly around her frame, he glanced over her head to Raven’s gleeful face.

“Hey Raven,” he grinned.

“Bellamy,” she greeted. “So nice to see you again.”

“You too.” He figured he may as well take a shot in the dark. “Wick says hello.”

She blinked in surprise, her mouth curving up despite her best efforts. Bellamy congratulated himself, making a note to tell Wick he’d been right after all. Then he turned to Finn, plastering a confused look on his face. Hell if he was going to give this kid the satisfaction of thinking Clarke had mentioned him. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Bellamy.”

The boy held out a hand, still a bit stunned. “Finn Collins.”

Bellamy shook it, squeezing a little tighter than strictly necessary. “So are you in classes with Clarke?” He asked innocently.

Raven had to look away, a hand covering her mouth. Finn blinked slowly, unsure of exactly what to say. It was Clarke who finally answered. “Yeah, he’s in my chem lectures.” Her arm slid around Bellamy’s back under his jacket. “We were just saying the exam next week is going to suck.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Guess I’d better get my fill of you now before you get stuck in that library again, huh?”

“Guess so.” She smiled up at him. He was _thisclose_ to kissing her again.

“So Bellamy,” Raven drawled, “you coming to lunch with us today?”

 _Thank god._ “If you don’t mind.”

Finn was effectively dismissed. With a quiet goodbye, he left their group and headed down the hall. With a final glare at his back, Bellamy turned back to Raven. “Thanks for playing along. Sorry to spring it on you like that. Clarke _was_ going to tell you, much more tactfully I’m sure, but I kinda figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“No problem at all.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Let your sister know she owes me a pretty penny. I’ll take cash or check.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows lifted sky high. He opened his mouth, but Clarke got there first. “What!?” She grabbed her arm. “There was a _bet?_ And why didn’t I get to play?”

Raven tapped her cheek affectionately. “I’m pretty sure you already won the jackpot. _Princess._ ” She laughed.

Clarke’s blush returned with a fury. She stammered for a few seconds, then abruptly shut her mouth. Raven grinned before arching a severe eyebrow at Bellamy. “Any funny business, and I will end you,” she promised.

“Duly noted.”

Her grin was back as she began strolling away. “I want fries. Lots and lots of fries,” she announced.

Bellamy chuckled, ducking to kiss Clarke’s overheated skin. “So, was that kind of what you had in mind?”

“You just love being dramatic, don’t you.”

“As long as it gets the point across.”

Clarke stretched to her tiptoes to pull him into a swift, tight hug. “My hero,” she teased lightly, but he didn’t miss the undercurrent of thanks in her voice. He nuzzled her cheek in return.

“Every princess deserves a knight, don’t you think?” He asked with a smile.

Her soft laugh was all the answer he needed. Bellamy held her a moment longer before Raven’s wry voice reached their ears. 

“Jackpot or not, I will still hurt you if I’m not fed before calculus.”

~~~~~~~

Clarke didn’t exactly intend for it, but she got a little thrill out of finally announcing to the world that she had snagged Bellamy Blake. And if yesterday’s little scene in front of Raven had been any indication, he was pretty damn proud of it, too.

So when she dropped by The Ark the next night as Bellamy finished up his shift, she couldn’t quite help the words that tumbled out when one of the bartenders caught her looking around.

“Hey! Can I help you?”

She glanced at the crowded bar. “Is Bellamy here?”

“Yeah, he’s in the back cleaning up. I’ll go get him. Who’d you say you were?”

“His girlfriend,” she replied. _God, that sounds good._ He nodded easily, making his way to the back. Clarke smiled to herself and lingered against the counter until someone called her name. Turning, she was greeted by a widely grinning Wick.

“Well, shit,” he laughed. “When Dan said Bellamy’s girlfriend was out here I just had to come see for myself if it was you. Clarke, right?”

She blushed and nodded. “Hey Wick. How are you?”

“Can’t complain.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his feet. “I wish Miller was here tonight. He’s been your biggest fan. Well, myself not included, obviously.”

“Is that so?” Clarke laughed with him. “I thought you were Raven’s biggest fan?” 

To her delight, he stumbled a little. She knew she’d caught him when his grin turned sheepish, and she decided maybe Raven could use more than a little nudge. “I’ll have to bring her by soon,” she said, watching his face light up.

“That’d be great,” he replied honestly. “Thanks.”

As she was nodding, a pair of arms slipped around her waist and pulled her close. Clarke smiled and shifted to look up at Bellamy. “Hi there.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Hey princess. Sorry to keep you waiting,” he murmured. 

“No problem. Wick kept me company.”

At his questioning look, Wick grinned. “I overheard Dan saying your girlfriend was waiting. Just had to see the lady in question for myself.”

A smile tugged at Bellamy’s mouth. Clarke tapped his side until he looked down at her. “I was just telling him, I’m going to drag Raven over here in the near future.”

His eyebrows lifted. “That’s awfully brave of you,” he remarked lightly. 

“I think it’d be worth it.” She glanced sidelong at Wick. “So does he. Don’t you, Wick?”

The sound of glass breaking saved Wick from answering. He muttered something that sounded like an agreement before taking off in the direction of the noise, and Bellamy laughed into her ear as they headed out the door. “Being a troublemaker suits you,” he grinned.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “After all the grief Raven gave me about us - and I suspect that he gave you - they’ve got it coming.” 

He chuckled at that. “I don’t doubt it. You know Wick’s crazy about her, right?”

“Yeah, I can tell. And I know she likes him, too, or she could, if she’d just let herself try.” Clarke sighed. “It’s hard to move on, but she needs to give him a shot. I think it’d be really good for her.”

“For him too,” Bellamy said thoughtfully. Then his smile turned sly and his arm tightened a little where it was slung over her shoulder. “So, I gotta say it felt pretty damn awesome to hear my _girlfriend_ was waiting by the bar.” He dipped his head to nip at her earlobe. “Never thought I’d hear that.”

Clarke stretched to her tiptoes for a proper kiss. “Get used to it,” she whispered back, and he grinned and bit her bottom lip.

“Oh I will, princess. I definitely will.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. I'm so not ready for tomorrow. so here. *throws fluff*

In retrospect, Clarke should have seen the question coming. As soon as Raven found out about her and Bellamy, she should have known one of the immediate queries was going to be _how’s the sex?_ But she was still somehow taken off guard when Raven asked her about it one afternoon, and so she’d only ducked her head and muttered something unintelligible before hurrying into her building.

Not surprisingly, her friend followed. “You have _got_ to be kidding me,” she declared loudly.

Clarke winced as Raven’s voice carried through the stairwell. Hopping up the last few steps, she opened her apartment door. A quick glance told her nobody was home. Good thing, too, because Raven sounded like she was just getting started. “Clarke, come on.”

“You know perfectly well that I’m serious.” She headed straight for her room, hearing hasty footsteps follow behind her.

“How long have you two been dating?” Raven demanded.

“Just a couple of months.” _And twenty days, six hours_ her mind added happily. She dropped her bag on the floor with a thud and opened her closet, immediately shrugging out of her heavy hoodie.

“Okay fine, so you’ve been dating for a few months, _but_ you have been drooling over each other for nearly half a year! No, strike that - an entire year, if you count the bazillion sparks that flew every time you were in a freaking room together, _which I do_. Seriously, it’s miracle that elevator didn’t combust.”

“It has _not_ been that long,” Clarke mumbled. “And I wasn’t drooling.”

“Liar.” Raven poked her repeatedly in the side until she squealed and swatted her hand away.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, how have you possibly not had sex yet?!”

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned around. “It’s not like I don’t want to. I’m not a nun. I just don’t see any need to rush things.”

“ _Six months_ , Clarke,” Raven responded dryly. “Nobody would accuse you of rushing.” With a huff of frustration, Clarke dropped onto her bed, rolling to lie her stomach. Her friend immediately scooted in beside her, nudging her lightly.

“Give me a real reason, and I swear I’ll drop it.”

The words slipped out without thinking. “The last time I slept with someone, his girlfriend showed up.”

Raven blinked. Then she snorted and rolled her eyes. “Touche. I guess.”

Clarke peeked up from where her head was resting on her arms, relieved not to see anything other than understanding in the other girl's expression. Then Raven said, “But Bellamy is _not_ Finn. As evidenced by his little show last week. Damn, that was beautiful,” she sighed longingly. “I swear to god, that was the hottest short kiss-”

She broke off laughing as Clarke swatted at her blindly, cheeks burning. When the giggles subsided, Raven caught her hand again. “You know I’m right. They’re not the same, not by a long shot.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Clarke muttered.

“Then what are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” she protested. “But what’s wrong with taking my time?”

“Nothing, if that’s actually what you want,” her friend replied easily. “But this is you hiding. Everyone and their mother _knows_ you want Bellamy Blake. And don’t even say you aren’t sure what he wants because that is a load of crap. I will call him _right now_ -”

“Alright I get it, I get it. Jeez.” She grumbled into her pillow as Raven patted her head affectionately. After a few minutes she asked, “Why are you so invested in this anyways?” She raised her eyes suspiciously. “Don’t tell me there’s another bet going on, or I swear-”

“Calm down. No bets.” At her disbelieving look, Raven grinned. “Seriously. I swear on my sweet new engineering lab that nothing is going on. Octavia is _not_ willing to discuss her brother’s sex life in any way.”

“Good to know. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

Raven shrugged. “I’m nosy like that.” At Clarke’s snort, she added, “Come on. I’m allowed to make sure my friend is happy.”

Clarke returned her smile and propped herself up on her elbow. “Speaking of… what’s the deal with you and Wick?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” came the flat reply.

Her eyebrow lifted in amusement. “Try again.” 

Raven gave an exaggerated sigh but didn’t answer for a full minute. A rarity. Finally she groaned. “I have no idea. Truth.”

“He seems to like you,” Clarke said softly.

“Yeah, well, so did my last boyfriend.”

Clarke looped her arm around Raven’s and tucked her head on her shoulder. “Looks like I’m not the only one being careful.” She paused. “For what it’s worth, I’d kick his ass if he hurt you. After you do, of course.”

Raven chuckled. “I know.”

“But still. It might be worth taking a shot this time. You never know unless you try, right?” She looked up to see her friend’s eyes close uncertainly. “Just think about it, that’s all I ask.” Raven only hummed in answer. Clarke hugged her close, and for a while they were both lost in their thoughts. When her phone buzzed, she pulled it out of her pocket and smiled at the text.

_Hey princess._

“Don’t tell me,” Raven said dryly. “It’s Bellamy.”

_Hey. Raven says hi._

_Hi back. Wick’s inviting you guys over to The Ark._

Clarke grinned. “Wick says hi.”

“He does not.”

“Does too.” Clarke held the screen up, watching Raven read the words. Curiosity flashed across her face before she dropped her head with a sniff. Clarke smothered a laugh and typed back a quick reply.

_See you soon._

~~~~~~~~

“This was probably a bad idea,” Raven muttered for the third time.

“Shut up, we’re like half a block away.”

“Do _not_ let me take shots, you hear me Griffin?”

“I’ll do my best.” Clarke pushed the door open, her eyes flying immediately to the bar where Bellamy stood behind the counter. A wide, playful smile stretched across his face when their eyes locked.

“Ugh,” Raven groaned. “You two suck.”

“Love you too.” Clarke dragged her inside and hopped up on a barstool. Raven sat next to her, pretending not to look around even though that was exactly what she was doing. Clarke grinned at Bellamy, who was fighting a laugh. 

_Troublemaker,_ he mouthed. She wiggled her eyebrows. Out loud, he said, “Glad you guys could make it. What are you drinking?”

“You had good timing. The usual for me.” She pretended to think a moment. “Raven needs a shot.”

Raven’s head whipped around. “Clarke!”

“I’m kidding. A beer. IPA.”

“You got it.” As he strode away, Raven glanced at her sidelong.

“Seriously? So formal,” she said loudly.

Clarke rolled her eyes, shoving her friend good-naturedly. “Admit it, you’re just wondering where Wick is.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Clarke stuck out her tongue just to see Raven grin. On cue, Wick appeared from the back. He stopped to talk to Bellamy, who helpfully pointed in their direction. It took mere seconds for his face to light up immediately at the sight of Raven, who squirmed and narrowed her eyes.

Wick didn’t seem to notice, too delighted that she was actually there.

Clarke coughed and nudged her friend. “That,” she said pointedly, “does _not_ look like someone who’s faking it.”

Just then, Bellamy returned with their drinks. She took a sip and smiled in thanks. Instead of turning away, he rounded the counter and planted a noisy kiss on her mouth. Clarke squeaked and hung on to his shoulders until he released her.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“Hi,” she replied breathlessly. She wondered if he maybe had heard Raven’s “formal” comment. His smile said yes, he absolutely had. Before she could open her mouth again, Wick spoke up behind her.

“Hey Clarke!”

She turned, finding a grateful look directed at her. “Hey,” she smiled. “How are you?”

“Oh, just peachy,” he grinned, slouching against the counter directly in front of Raven. His eyes slid to her. “Hello there.”

“Hey.”

Clarke put a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. They were damn cute - not that either would admit to it. She looked up at Bellamy. “We might need something stronger than beer.”

He seemed to agree, his eyes flitting between the two with nothing short of amusement. “You certainly came to the right place.”

~~~~~~~~

Some time later, Raven was spinning on the barstool with a small grin. She wasn’t quite up to her chatty self yet, but she’d opened up considerably more. Clarke glanced over at Wick, who said something to make Raven snort and click her glass with his. 

With a smile to herself, she looked around. Aside from a few occupied tables, the bar was pretty quiet tonight. Those who were working were either lounging at the bar or cleaning up. Bellamy had disappeared into the back a little while ago and still hadn’t returned. She frowned and tapped her empty glass in thought.

Sliding off her stool, she caught Wick’s eye and motioned behind the bar. He winked and nodded. Raven watched her go but didn’t protest, peeking up at Wick while he was distracted by a customer. Clarke grinned in satisfaction. Then she made her way to the back hallway, pushing through the door on the left that branched off directly before the exit into the alley. She set her hands on her hips and looked around, unsure of where to turn next. Carefully, she took a few steps forward. 

With the sounds of the main bar already dimming behind her, it didn't take long for the first few strains of music to reach her ears. She stopped, smiling, and turned in a circle. Locating the melody again, her feet carried her to a small room barely the size of a closet.

She tapped hesitantly on the door. “Bell?”

The music stopped. Then there was shuffling, and the door swung open. “Hey,” Bellamy smiled sheepishly.

“Did I interrupt?”

“Nah, I was just messing around. Got a little caught up.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry to leave you stranded like that.”

“No, it’s fine. Raven’s preoccupied. In fact, I should meddle more often.” As he laughed, Clarke rose to her tiptoes, trying to peer over his shoulder. A few dark shapes leaned against the wall. One case was open, revealing a guitar. “Is that yours?”

He followed her gaze and nodded. “Unofficially, yeah.”

“Can I see?” She asked. Bellamy brightened immediately and stepped back, sweeping an arm out.

“After you.”

“How gallant,” she teased. He closed the door behind her, enveloping them in a bubble of their own. A single lightbulb on the ceiling lit the small space. Clarke noticed he’d been using one of the crates as a seat. He turned in a circle, throat bobbing nervously, until she pulled him close for a kiss.

Then she hopped up on the ledge, her feet dangling in front of her. Bellamy grinned and carefully grasped the guitar by the neck, laying it sideways on her lap as he stood in front of her. 

“I haven’t touched it for a few days, so it needed a tune-up,” he explained. 

“Did you teach yourself to play?”

“Yeah, I got a few of the starter books to learn the chords and how to read music, all that stuff.” His hands brushed along the strings as reverently as she would treat her art supplies. “Evan - the guy whose band plays here sometimes - he let me join in at the end of their practices, just to jam for a bit, get used to playing with others. More freeform. More fun.”

Clarke smiled up at him. “How’d you decide on this guitar?”

“I took a beginner’s class at school my first year. One of the group ones, nothing fancy. The professor was a cool guy, explained what kinds of guitars there were, which ones were better to practice with…” Bellamy traced a finger along the curved wood. “This is a dreadnaught. Definitely one of the bigger ones. But I got comfortable with it pretty quickly, and I just kind of knew.” 

“That’s so cool. It’s like that with art, too. You just know if you prefer oil over watercolor, charcoal versus color pencils.” She paused, then asked, “Will you play something for me?”

He blinked, hesitating just a second. Then he smiled warmly and nodded, settling down on the crate with the guitar like it was already a part of him. “Any requests?”

She shook her head. “Whatever you like.”

He took a deep breath, and was about to begin when he looked up again. “I don’t sing.”

Clarke grinned. “No,” she agreed, “you certainly don’t.”

Bellamy laughed softly, the nervousness easing from his face. His fingers skated along the strings, instantly filling their small hideout with music. He tapped his foot lightly while his left hand continued to adjust and the right kept strumming. It was a quiet melody, sweet and simple and so very _him._ The notes were effortless, and he seemed to sink a little lower, relaxing into it as the song continued. The lines normally present on his face were nowhere to be found.

Watching him, Clarke was suddenly overwhelmed by a single thought: _I’m falling in love with him._

It didn’t scare her so much as it once might have.

So when he finished and set the guitar aside, bashfully looking up at her through dark eyelashes, she slid off the small ledge and into his lap. His arms linked around her waist as she kissed him, slow and lingering. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Bellamy nodded, leaning up to kiss her again. When he pulled back too soon, she protested and followed, feeling him smile against her mouth. 

“We should get back out there,” he said eventually. “Make sure Wick’s still alive.”

Clarke giggled but only continued to trail her lips along his jaw. His fingers brushed over her ribcage, making her squeak in surprise. With a sigh, she began to draw away, but he cradled her cheek a moment longer until she looked at him.

“If I could, I’d stay in here with you all day,” Bellamy said. 

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him for a long moment, their noses brushing lightly. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no but seriously, I'm not ready. come find me on tumblr (notmylady) to chat/scream/make weird noises. you know. XD


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ever-elusive showcase is finally here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to grab wifi on my travels, but not sure when it'll happen again!

Clarke sighed and rummaged through her closet again. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to Lincoln’s showcase later this evening. She just didn’t have the clothes for it. It was rare that she got dolled up for anything, and when she did it consisted of her go-to black dress and heels. The black dress that she’d loaned to Raven and hadn’t seen for weeks.

And hell if she was about to ask for it back, knowing that her friend was quite possibly out with Wick at the moment and would likely jump at any excuse to back out. No way was Clarke going to give her that satisfaction. Nope, she'd have to let him woo her as he intended.

So she grit her teeth and began pushing aside clothes once more. Just as she was ready to give up and beg Octavia for help, a light blue fabric caught her eye at the bottom of a pile. She paused, digging through the shirts until she grasped the soft material. She pulled it out and smoothed it over, cradling it against her body as a foolish grin began to form.

This would do.

~~~~~~~

Bellamy knocked on the door twice, rocking back and forth on his heels. He’d never look at this apartment, this building, the same way again. Never could he have predicted that getting evicted could have lead to the best few months of his life.

“Coming,” Clarke called. Self-consciously, Bellamy brushed at his dark slacks and grey button-up once more. If he strained, he could just barely hear her shuffling down the hall. No tell-tale _click clack_ whatsoever. She would be barefoot until the very last minute, if she could help it.

He opened his mouth to say as much as she swung the door open, only to have his mind go completely blank at the sight of her. Her blonde hair fell in soft, loose waves over her shoulders, her eyes lined in black and red on her lips. But it was the dress that commanded his full attention. The same blue dress he’d seen her in years ago, the first time he’d set eyes on her. 

Even without the flower crown or shoes, she was every inch a princess. _His_ princess. 

Bellamy knew without a doubt she’d chosen the dress specifically to drive him insane.

“You can close your mouth now, Bell.” They both jumped at Octavia’s voice as she headed for her room. “You too Clarke. Seriously, if I didn’t know you two were together before, I sure do now,” she commented with a sly smirk.

With a small groan, Clarke put her head in her hands, unable to hide the brilliant flush that crept up her neck. Bellamy released an embarrassed laughed and stepped forward to swing an arm around her. She hid her face in his shirt, but he knew she was smiling all the same.

Leaning down, he whispered, “You look lovely." His teeth tugged at her earlobe. “Princess.”

She shivered, her fingers hooking around his belt loops as she leaned up to kiss him. “You clean up nicely too.”

~~~~~~

They made their way over to the loft where Lincoln’s showcase was being held. Octavia insisted on taking a cab on account of her heels, and Clarke put up no argument. When they stepped out of the taxi, Bellamy offered his arms to them with a crooked grin, and though both girls rolled their eyes, each looped an arm through one of his. 

As they took the elevator up to the fifth floor, Octavia’s excitement grew. Bellamy grinned, kissing her cheek before the doors opened. The open space was set up like a full gallery, complete with a walk-through that contained beautiful framed pictures of Lincoln’s older works, interspersed with his more recent pieces on display. The tables were draped in cloths of deep greens and browns and the occasional red, all very warm and rich tones that Clarke's mind fully appreciated. Nobody would know that under those lay rickety brown tables with scratchy wood that they had carried up here not long ago, yelping every time a splinter found its way under their skin.

The walls of the loft were entirely brick, and the ceiling was exposed to reveal all the beams and pipes that ran along it. It all fit perfectly with Lincoln's metallic creations, everything combining to create an urban, contemporary feel. Small yellow lights were draped around the entire perimeter of the room, giving off a soft, warm ambiance that somehow made it feel more personal. 

And then there were Lincoln’s sculptures, which proudly sat all around the space at different levels of prominence.

Clarke’s mouth dropped open at the sight. “Wow,” she breathed. “Octavia, you guys outdid yourselves.”

“It does look pretty good, doesn’t it?" She agreed happily. "Sam hit the jackpot with this place.” She tugged them inside, where people had already begun milling around the sculptures set up on various tables. Lincoln spotted her immediately and strode over.

After giving her a hug, he turned to them. “Thank you both for coming. I really appreciate it.”

Clarke smiled. “Of course we did! Lincoln, this looks amazing.”

“Yeah, congratulations man,” Bellamy added. “Really. This is impressive.”

Lincoln smiled in relief. “Thanks. I had help.” He squeezed Octavia’s hand gratefully. Then he was being waved over by somebody else and he murmured a quick apology before leaving to play the gracious host. After a pointed glance between the two of them, Octavia followed him.

Clarke shook her head, looking up at Bellamy, who was grinning sheepishly. “Shall we?” He said.

She laughed and nodded, and they slowly began to make their way around the room. The figures took on different forms, though angels appeared to be a common theme throughout. They were pieced together with all sorts of scrap metal that glinted and winked under the soft lights. Clarke told Bellamy how she’d once heard someone ask Lincoln why he would use “trash” as his material. Before Octavia could jump the girl in question, Lincoln had only smiled his slow, patient smile, and said _One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,_ and left it at that. Between him and Clarke, they’d dragged spitfire Octavia away, though not before she leveled a withering glare at the other girl.

“If eyes could shoot flames, hers would have,” Clarke laughed.

Bellamy lifted an amused brow. “Sounds familiar,” he remarked lightly.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

They continued to stroll through the showcase. It was remarkable. Clarke could see the progression of Lincoln’s work, as he began to slowly incorporate wire into his creations as well, keeping the metallic tone of the pieces consistent while also branching out and inventing. 

“My dad would have loved this,” she said quietly. “He was always so encouraging of art in every form. I bet he and Lincoln could have talked for days.”

Bellamy smiled. “What was his favorite? Paints?”

“Pastel,” Clarke laid her head on his shoulder. “He always said it was more fun when you got messy. I think that’s why I latched onto charcoal so quickly.” She grinned up at him. “Nothing makes a bigger mess.”

He kissed her forehead, giving her arm a squeeze before they moved on to the next. 

“Clarke! Bellamy!” 

They turned to see Jasper and Monty headed their way, huge smiles on their faces. “Uh oh,” she murmured. “Your sister called the cavalry.” Bellamy smothered his laugh just as the two boys approached, and she couldn't help but grin. “You guys look so nice! Love the bow-tie, Monty.”

“Thank you.” He beamed. “You both look great, too.” Slyly, he then wiggled a finger between her and Bellamy. “Soooo, I hear you two are apparently very good at keeping secrets. This is real then?”

“Very real.” It was Bellamy who answered, giving Clarke’s hand a firm squeeze that made her heart flip ecstatically.

“Awesome.” Monty turned to Jasper. “You owe me 20 bucks, sir.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Not you guys too,” she groaned and pressed her face into Bellamy’s shoulder, feeling him shake in laughter even as he squeezed her reassuringly. “I hate you all.”

“To be fair,” Jasper piped up, "we didn’t know the girls had bet too. Or we would have all just made one big pool. You know, family style.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she mumbled.

“Looks like we’re surrounded by troublemakers,” Bellamy said, but when she lifted her head he gave a quick wink, and she caught on quickly.

“So Jasper,” she drawled slowly, “where’s Maya tonight?”

The boy stuttered, taken aback. “Uh, she, well- the thing is-”

“Jas! Monty!” Octavia bounded up, grabbing them both in a hug. “I’m so glad you guys made it,” she said, as if she hadn’t threatened their lives otherwise.

“Of course. Where’s the man of the hour?” Monty asked.

Octavia jerked her head to the corner, where Lincoln was conferring with a dark-skinned woman who nobody dared to interrupt. “Trying to butter up the old bat.”

“Who is that?” Clarke asked curiously.

“His professor. Yeah, I know,” she grinned wryly. “She’s a hardass. In the best way, though.”

“Yikes. I think I’ll wait,” Jasper muttered.

Clarke saw her chance and struck. “Yeah, you haven’t finished telling me about Maya,” she said delightedly, watching Octavia’s eyes widen to saucers.

“Maya?!” The shriek was contained at the very last second, but Jasper reddened anyways. “ _Ohmygod_ Jas, spill!”

Clarke grinned up at Bellamy, who tweaked her nose appreciatively. They took an extra few minutes to tease Jasper until Lincoln finally managed to get some breathing room between himself and his professor, and then Octavia dragged the two boys over to say hello.

Another sculpture caught Clarke’s eye, and she pulled Bellamy in the opposite direction. This one was clearly an angel, her metal wings outstretched as she prepared to take flight. She bent closer, squinting. “This looks so familiar,” she murmured. “But I don’t know how…”

She trailed off when she caught sight of Octavia across the room. A smile instantly bloomed on her face. “Of course!” She laughed, making Bellamy look at her in question. “When they first started dating Lincoln would give O all these little mini sculptures. She’s got them lined up on her dresser now, I think. But this is a life-size version of the very first one he gave her,” Clarke explained. “I remember because she came home that day wigging out about the boy in her art class who gave her a gift. The art class _I_ made her take,” she added proudly.

Bellamy’s lips curved into a fond smile. But when he didn’t say anything for a full minute, Clarke began to wonder what was going through his head. She nudged him. “What is it?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing bad. I just… I’m glad she had someone to talk to about all that,” he said softly. “I know I didn’t make it easy on her at first. But, she deserved to have a friend during that time. I’m glad it was you.”

Because her throat was too tight to say anything, Clarke leaned up and kissed his cheek and then the corner of his mouth. When she pulled back, she laughed and swiped her thumb across his skin, showing him the shimmery red lipstick that had rubbed off.

“Next time you can leave it there,” he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, making her blush to her toes.

~~~~~~

At the end of the evening, they said their goodbyes to everyone, lingering with Lincoln and Octavia a little longer before making their way outside. The city lights twinkled brightly against the darkness of the night, and there was a light breeze that brushed at her hair like gentle fingers. The two of them exchanged a quick look.

“Walk?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke nodded, grinning. After a few minutes, she began rubbing her arms to ward off the slight chill, wishing she'd thought to bring more than just a cardigan. Ever perceptive, Bellamy shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She put her arms through the sleeves and breathed in the smell of him, musk and leather.

The night was punctuated with the occasional car horn or siren, but otherwise things were calm as they strolled along the sidewalks. Bellamy seemed more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

“That was nice, wasn’t it?” She murmured.

“Yeah, it was. O seemed really happy.”

“And proud.”

“She should be,” he said firmly. “Lincoln’s very talented.”

She nudged him lightly. At her questioning look, he rolled his eyes. “I know you both think I don’t like the guy. But it’s not true at all. He treats her better than I could hope for. It’s just…” He smiled ruefully. “She’s my baby sister, you know? I’ll always be protective.”

“Besides,” he continued, “it’s just been the two of us for so long. I guess I just got used to it.”

Clarke looped her arm through his. “Well you better get used to it being a bit more crowded, because I don’t think Lincoln got that memo." Pausing only a beat, she added before she could stop herself, "And neither did I.”

She smiled up at his surprised face, and when he stopped to kiss her she returned it fiercely. Her heart drummed in her chest as she held him close a little longer, a wave of pride surging through her at the sight of his full mouth smeared with her lipstick. She grinned, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before their fingers linked together and they continued walking.

“So,” Bellamy began impishly, “did you wear that dress just to torment me or what?”

Clarke laughed. “Depends. Is it working?”

His mouth found her earlobe, prompting a long sigh. “Yes,” his whisper was all tongue and teeth. He let go with a self-satisfied smirk as she tried to catch her breath. It was a long moment before she was able to speak.

“I guess I was feeling a bit nostalgic.” Clarke toyed with the zipper of his jacket. “Besides, it’s one of the few that I own. I’m not exactly the dressy type, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“No, you’re just the beautiful, know-it-all, ready to kick ass type.” His grin made her pulse skyrocket.

“Know-it-all?”

“Really? _That’s_ what you fixated on?”

She giggled, tucking the words away safely in her mind as she leaned up for another kiss. It started out soft and sweet, but then his tongue licked into her mouth and her mind went hazy with need. In the span of a few minutes, she went from sighing to panting against his lips, her arms wrapped tightly around him. He gave a small groan as her nails raked through his thick hair and over his scalp, pressing their bodies together insistently. Then his hand dragged slowly down her back, and it was her turn to let out a helpless whimper as the need gathered in her body, sharp and burning.

Kissing Bellamy under the streetlights, Clarke came to a single decision. She was done with waiting, done with hiding. She _wanted,_ and she'd waited long enough.

Wrenching her mouth from his, she tugged on his curls to keep his eyes on hers. “Take me home, Bellamy.”

It took him a moment. His eyes searched hers and found no hesitation, only the same longing that was reflected in his. He grinned rakishly and swept her up in another smoldering kiss. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it needed to be said, the next couple chapters are all smut. rating to go up when I post ;)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo, finally! here we go. I really hope you like it!

Bellamy fumbled to get the key in the lock, his trembling hands not helping one bit. Clarke’s lips descended on his ear, his jaw, his neck, raining a cascade of eager kisses on his skin. When her teeth trapped his earlobe, he was somewhat proud his knees didn’t buckle right then and there.

"Bell," she whispered hotly, "if that door isn't open in the next 30 seconds-"

He never found out what the rest of that sentence was, because it finally fucking opened and it was all he could do not to shove her inside the building. They tugged each other up the stairs, her with soft giggles and him trying desperately not to take her right on the carpeted steps. Their mouths refused to unlock from one another. On the second landing, they spent an inordinate amount of time crushed against the wall, his hands on her thighs and hers digging into his back urging him closer. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she laughed into his ear, arching against him. He mumbled an agreement - or possibly a protest - into her neck, where his lips were busy trying to get her to make that little moan again. To his satisfaction, he succeeded a few seconds later.

Only the sound of a door opening on the floor below startled Clarke out of the haze, and she fairly dragged him the remainder of the way. Then he was standing in front of his door, key shaking into the lock, and finally, blessedly, they were inside his apartment. Bellamy turned around, fully intending to slow their pace before they ended up losing control against the doorframe. Their first time was _not_ going to be there, if he had anything to say about it.

But Clarke apparently had her own ideas - _of course she did._ She pushed him back against the closed door with surprising force, following to link her arms around his neck and press her body close. Her lips swarmed his, hot and hungry. For a few minutes, all he could do was respond just as fiercely. But when she began rubbing purposely against him, he groaned harshly and set his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm's length. 

“Clarke, wait-”

“Don’t you dare stop now,” she breathed. The blue in her eyes was rapidly disappearing as she stared back, her chest flushed and heaving. “I swear to god, I’ll-”

He kissed her solidly. “No way in hell I’m stopping,” he told her hoarsely. “But this… we… we should do this right.”

Clarke twisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and yanked him close again. “We _are._ Bellamy, I want you. The rest is semantics, remember?” His forehead dropped to hers as he smiled. She kissed the corner of his mouth before brushing her lips across his cheek. Then her hands slid up to link around his neck, her gaze turning sly. 

“Besides, I don’t plan on just doing this once.” A single eyebrow arched. “Do you?”

Fuck, she was perfect. 

Bellamy gave in with a groan, hands tangling in her hair as his mouth found hers again. He took her low purr to mean she liked that, and tugged a little harder at her hair, smirking at her resulting moan. Not passive in the least, her hands wandered along his back, fingers eagerly searching for a way underneath his shirt. "The one time you tuck it in," she muttered, and he chuckled at her irritation because _she wanted him_ and the thought alone made his heart race. Ducking his head, he sucked a wet path down the long column of her throat. She sighed, her fingers pausing in their quest to unbutton his shirt to simply clutch at the material. 

His hands skimmed along her bare legs, slowly dragging upwards under her dress. Clarke let out a soft mewl when he reached the juncture of her thighs, and Bellamy's mind went blank as his fingers found her underwear already damp. She bit down on his lower lip as he stroked her with a featherlight touch. “Tease,” she ground out, and Bellamy laughed.

"Impatient," he retorted. But he picked her up easily, feeling her legs curl around his waist. Their bodies came flush into contact at the points that ached the most, making his legs shaky as he carried her to his room. Her eager mouth was everywhere, nipping at his jaw and sucking at his pulse point until his eyes nearly rolled back.

As soon as they were inside, he returned the favor by pressing her against the wall. With a knee wedged between her legs, his hands wandered greedily up and down her body, relishing every sound that emerged from her mouth.

Bellamy was more than happy to discover he’d been right about her being unable to stay quiet.

Clarke fumbled with the zipper of his jacket, and he helped her toss it off along with her thin cardigan. Then her clever fingers were at his waist, tugging up, up until his carefully tucked shirt was loose. Her hands slid underneath, probing and curious as they tapped along his abs, traced the length of his ribs, pressed in the dimples by his spine. His hips rocked helplessly into hers, making her smile smugly against his mouth.

Growling, he dragged his lips down across her shoulder, nudging aside the strap of her dress to kiss bare skin. He continued lower, purposely slowing as he reached the curve of her breasts. Clarke shivered long and hard as his stubble trailed a lazy path along the neckline of her dress. 

With a shove, she turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Off,” she demanded shakily.

Bellamy stepped closer, sweeping her hair to side and brushing a kiss against her neck. Then he slipped the tiny buttons apart one by one, eagerly tasting each inch of newly revealed skin. Clarke’s forehead knocked heavily against the wall as he kissed down her spine, his tongue dipping into each hill and hollow of her vertebrae. Just as he reached the flare of her hips, she twisted impatiently, shrugging the rest of the fabric off to pool at her feet.

She stood before him in nothing but grey lace panties and a strapless white bra, her pale skin flushed pink all over. Her lips were swollen and her hair fell in tangled snarls over her shoulders.

She was absolutely perfect. Bellamy wanted nothing more than to commit this to memory.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said, and reached for him. He went willingly, framing her face between his large hands and planting a small kiss on her nose.

“Oh, princess,” he sighed. “I’ve been waiting forever to hear you say that.”

Clarke threw her head back and laughed, loud and bright, and just like that the spell was broken. They crashed together, making quick work of his clothes before she pushed him back on his bed and crawled over him. Her mouth lingered over his torso, her tongue tracing dips and lines he hadn’t even known existed until this moment. He was struck by the raw wanting, the idea that she craved to learn him just as badly as he did her.

When her teeth sank into a band of muscle near his hip, he didn't recognize the strangled noise that flew out of his mouth, but he damn well heard her small giggle that followed before she went and did it again. "Fuck, Clarke," he gripped her shoulders, willing his eyes not to roll back like they so wanted to. 

Then she sat up and unhooked her bra, throwing it to the side before leaning down to find his lips again. The feeling of her bare chest against his sent Bellamy into a spiral. His hands came up to touch and knead the soft flesh, the whimper into his mouth only encouraging him on. He flipped them easily and moved down her body with zealous abandon, tasting every bit of new skin with both tongue and teeth. He noted how her hand curled into his hair when he lingered at her breasts, how her nails raked his shoulders when he latched his mouth to a particular spot under her ear; he catalogued every sharp gasp and sigh that tumbled from those pink lips.

His hands found the heat between her thighs, and he lifted his head in time to see hers drop back on the pillow, her neck arched and eyes closed. As soon as he had her underwear off, her legs parted of their own accord. He slipped a finger inside her, groaning against her stomach when he was met with no resistance, only warmth drawing him in further. Clarke gave a soft cry, her back curving off the bed. He sank another finger in, pumping back and forth as her hips rose to meet him. He dropped kisses along her shoulder, her breastbone, swirled his tongue in her bellybutton and felt her tremble with a laugh.

“Ticklish, princess?” He mumbled lazily. She throbbed around his fingers, her hips jerking a little harder. _Interesting._

Bellamy raised his head to look at her curiously. “You like it when I call you that, don’t you?” He slowed his hand. _”Princess.”_ Her breath hitched and he felt a flood of heat around his fingers. The pink in her cheeks and chest deepened to crimson.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

He ached to put his tongue where his fingers were and make her come just like that. But Clarke's impatience got the better of her. “Bellamy,” she demanded, and he nearly laughed because _of course_ she’d somehow injected bossiness into her voice while writhing beneath him. Her next words just about did him in. “Where are your condoms?”

He flung an arm at the drawer of the bedside table, his mouth too preoccupied by the crease between her hip and thigh. Clarke dug around and pulled one out, sitting up and drawing his face up to hers for a biting kiss. Then the packet tore open and her hands were on him, hasty and eager and too lingering to be innocent. A whine left his mouth without his permission, making her giggle. In retaliation, he noisily sucked her juices from his fingers, hearing her breathing quicken.

Then Bellamy grabbed her hands and pushed her back onto the pillows, linking their fingers together. Her grip tightened as his cock nudged her entrance, her head tipping back and eyes drifting shut.

“Clarke, please.” He couldn’t stop the words. “Stay with me.”

There was the tiniest ring of blue left in her eyes when she looked up, meeting his gaze. He watched her eyes widen, heard her murmur his name as he entered her, and decided it was the best sound in the world. He had every intention of keeping it slow - but true to form, Clarke disagreed. Her legs locked around his waist moments later, and then her heels were digging into his back as her hips tilted up, drawing him in deep without a second thought.

Their ragged sighs mingled in the air. Bellamy struggled to keep still and not lose control right away, but he was losing the battle with every squeeze of her legs as her warm heat surrounded him. “Shit, Clarke-”

“I know. I know,” Clarke whispered his name again, this time a plea, and he let go of her hands, allowing her arms to circle his shoulders. He leaned down and crushed his mouth to hers.

Their slow pace lasted all of a few seconds before they fell into an easy rhythm of clashing hips that had Clarke gasping into his mouth. Her voice rose an octave as her head fell back to the pillow, her eyes squeezing tightly shut. He sucked a bloom on her neck, suddenly driven to leave some evidence of this moment. As she began to unravel, he whispered nonsense into her skin and felt her movements became more frantic. His hand snuck between them to where they were joined, rubbing purposeful circles. 

Bellamy knew the moment she came, her entire body tightening around him. She clutched at his shoulders, a high keen leaving her lips as her walls clenched around his cock. 

It occurred to him, over the blood rushing through his ears, that the sound coming from her mouth had taken on the form of his name over and over again. With that playing repeatedly through his mind like a loop, it wasn’t long before he followed her over the edge, a hand fisted in her hair and his teeth on her neck.

He just barely managed to pull out before collapsing onto his back next to her. For a minute, their harsh breathing was all that could be heard in the darkness.

Then Clarke swung a leg over his hip and curled her body against his, her head pillowed on his shoulder and an arm draped over his stomach. Everything about the motion screamed _mine_ and _stay_ , and he kissed her damp forehead. She had no reason to worry.

She was stuck with him. Of that, he was entirely sure.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more sex. that's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read/commented on the last chapter!! I'm SO relieved that you liked it :D I swear the plot will progress in the next few chapters (little by little) but for now they can't keep their hands off each other. hope you enjoy!

Clarke eased the bedroom door open inch by inch, wincing and biting her lip at every creak. Though a soft sound, it seemed to ring out into the stillness of the early morning. Each time, she paused to check on Bellamy, who was tangled in the bedsheets, an arm tossed out as he slept. Satisfied that he wasn’t disturbed, she turned back to her task.

Ever so slowly, she pried the door open enough until she could slip out into the living room, carefully shutting it behind her only after Bellamy’s soft snore reached her ears. Grinning, she pulled his shirt more tightly around her, loosely buttoning it with no small amount of joy. Then she walked barefoot to the kitchen to get the glass of water she’d been craving. 

She’d been awake for some time now, simply lying there basking in the feeling of being held in Bellamy’s arms, their bodies crushed together in the best way. It had been no small struggle to get out of bed at this hour, snuggled up against his very naked form, no less.

Earlier that night, she’d woken to his lips dragging slowly down her back - a trail of hot, sucking kisses that had her melting further into the mattress until she was certain she’d become a puddle. The pillow had muffled her moans in the beginning, but when Bellamy began to gently apply his teeth, she pretty much had stopped caring who heard her. His hands had tiptoed up and down her sides, slowly tracing patterns that inched closer and closer to her center until she was convinced her nails would leave permanent indents in his mattress. It hadn't taken long for him to nudge the the blankets away, his lips seeking more skin.

Their second time was much slower, but no less earnest. Bellamy mapped her with a deliberate touch, determined to learn every nook and crevice of her body. She’d been putty in his hands - _those hands_ \- for many long moments until finally her desire took over and she shoved him to his back, eager to return the favor. And at her insistence that it was her turn to be on top - well, _it was,_ after all - she happily noted he had given absolutely zero argument.

Clarke was certain there was no better feeling than feeling his strong body tremble and shake under her hands and lips. She craved to know him just as well, to find out what made him wind his fingers into her hair - which, she liked far too much, it seemed - or what caused him to clutch at her hips almost to the point of bruising, or even better, let out a string of impressive curses. Her name had escaped his mouth more than once, leaving her both breathless and smug as she hovered over him, desperate to capture every reaction.

A sound from the hallway pulled her from her thoughts. It took her a few extra moments to realize she was just standing in Bellamy's kitchen, completely motionless, the glass of water frozen halfway to her mouth. Her legs were pressed together tightly, heat coiling low in her stomach, and she laughed softly at herself. Even just the memories had been enough to send her into a haze. Shaking her head, she touched the cool glass to her forehead before downing the rest of the water. 

Right as she was about to tiptoe back inside, the room door opened and Bellamy stepped into the living room. He was rumpled and groggy, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low off his hips. Spots on his chest were still stained red from her lipstick. The sight of him made her heart clench.

“Clarke?” He asked it hesitantly, as if unsure she was real.

“Hey.” She smiled and went to him, looping her arms around his waist. “Sorry to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I just… you weren’t there and I didn’t know if…” He trailed off, rubbing his neck in a familiar sheepish gesture.

“I just wanted some water,” she explained. “I was coming right back.”

“Oh. Okay.” His relief was palpable. Clarke leaned up to kiss him softly. When they pulled apart, his hands rested on her hips. He looked down at her quizzically, a smile forming. “Is that my shirt?”

She looked down at the grey button-up she’d stolen off the floor. “Yeah.” She grinned. “It’s really comfy. I might just keep it, you know.”

“I could be convinced,” Bellamy murmured against her mouth. “Only if you wear it every day.” His voice made goosebumps come to life all over her skin.

“Even to class?” She suggested innocently.

His teeth found her lower lip in rebuke. “Only I get to see this.” Then he winked mischievously. “Although, everyone is free to stare at your hickey however long they want.”

It took a few seconds for his words to register. “What?” Clarke twisted away and into the bathroom, hearing him chuckle lowly before following. Sure enough, a dark bloom waved back at her under the dim lights. She touched it in disbelief, already seeing a flush surround her skin. 

“How do I not remember this?” 

Bellamy’s arms slipped around her waist, his mouth toying with her earlobe. “You were… otherwise occupied,” he murmured. 

_Oh._ That would explain a lot, she thought dizzily. “Not fair. You don’t have one.”

He laughed softly against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “We can fix that, if it bothers you so much. Though,” he turned her towards him and gestured to the lipstick covering his abdomen, “I do have these.” She couldn’t quite help her smirk, and he leaned in to chase it away for a moment. When they parted, he twisted and pointed to his lower back. “I also have these.”

Clarke squinted and then put a hand over her mouth as she saw the small red lines covering his tanned skin. A tentative finger reached out to trace one. Though she was surprised, the sight made her oddly smug. 

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced up. “Nobody else better see this.” 

Bellamy grinned and gathered her close. “I don’t know,” he teased. “I’m kind of stupidly proud of them.” 

Laughing, Clarke swatted his shoulder as he crowded her against the counter, smiling widely. Their mouths collided for a few minutes and she lost herself in the kiss, happily sucking on his full bottom lip. 

Then his hands shifted lower to stroke between her legs and she hissed, her head falling back. Need built with surprising force as his mouth dragged down her neck at a torturously slow pace while his fingers endlessly circled her warmth, never quite giving her what she wanted. Finally Clarke grabbed a fistful of his hair and kissed him soundly, pushing her tongue into his mouth. Bellamy’s groan vibrated through her and soon she was wrapped around him, his hands braced under her thighs.

Distracted by her desire to leave a matching mark of her own under his ear, she didn’t notice when his pace slowed on their path to his room. Then the breath left her in a rush as her back hit the wall right beside his doorframe, and she found herself pinned. Bellamy’s hands wandered greedily, and for several moments her mouth couldn’t seem to form any words besides his name as her hips ground helplessly against his.

He was busy licking a trail down the valley between her breasts when she finally tugged his head up. His eyes were deep inky pools; so dark she couldn’t tell where the pupil ended and the iris began. 

“Bed, now,” she panted.

Bellamy agreed, moving them inside and laying her gently on the mattress. For a moment, he just stopped and stared down at her. When she was unable to help the blush that covered her skin, he smiled. She held out a hand to pull him close, wriggling beneath him as soon as his body covered hers once more.

But it seemed he had other ideas. After giving her a swift kiss, he ducked down her body, mouth curving at her protesting whine. Yanking the shirt off her entirely, he trailed light touches along her breastbone, down her stomach, pausing to tickle her sides.

“Bellamy!” She gasped, laughing and squirming. His weight rested firmly on her legs, refusing to let her move. His fingers continued to dance without mercy until she was breathless. “Stop, Bell, come on,” she begged between gulps of air. His eyes alight, he finally slowed, but sank his teeth into her hip seconds later, grinning at her squeak.

She smacked his shoulder. “What was that for?”

Bellamy glanced up. “Just returning the favor, princess.” 

It took her a second to locate the memory, but then she remembered - she’d done the same thing the previous night, practically without thinking. She’d just wanted to taste him, everywhere, and for once her body was acting without her mind’s constant supervision. His reaction had been unexpectedly enthusiastic, and she’d been so surprised and delighted by his momentary loss of control that she’d gone and done it again.

Smiling now, she reached out for him again, wanting to pull him close. But Bellamy only shook his head with a crooked grin. When he moved lower, Clarke tensed out of habit. His jaw had barely brushed her curls when he felt her muscles tighten, and he stopped. 

She leaned on her elbows as he looked up. Desire and uncertainty warred within her. “Wh- what are you doing?” She asked even though she was perfectly aware.

An eyebrow quirked upwards. “I’m kissing you,” Bellamy teased.

“You don’t have to.” The words left her mouth fast - too fast. His forehead creased immediately. Sensing her nervousness, he scooted up her body to gently cradle her cheek.

“What if I want to?” He murmured.

 _Oh._ Her lips parted but no sound emerged. A little embarrassed, she focused on the freckles dotting his shoulder until a light finger under her chin drew her back. Bellamy’s eyes held only curiosity and longing, no judgment in sight. When she still didn’t speak, he dipped his head for a kiss, lingering until he she finally began to relax. He kept it slow and lazy, softly coaxing her lips apart and exploring her mouth with his tongue. The thought of him doing the same elsewhere made her legs clamp together. At her soft moan, he drew back.

His fingers tenderly traced her cheek. “Clarke, has anyone ever done this for you?”

She swallowed and shook her head. His jaw tightened, and something oddly possessive flashed in his eyes. 

“Good,” he said, surprising her. His voice dipped to a growl as he pressed a kiss under her ear. “I want to be the only one you think of between your legs. The only one who knows what you taste like when you come.”

 _Oh, god._ The heat in his voice had her shivering agreeably and pulling him back for another kiss, this one anxious and needy. With a final peck to her lips, Bellamy eased back down her body, settling between her spread thighs. Still a little nervous but mostly just aroused, Clarke forced her eyes to stay open, raising on her elbows to look at him. The sight of his dark head bent low over her in such an undeniably intimate position sent a pulse of heat straight to her core, making her helplessly wet. Her clit throbbed in anticipation when he moved close enough for his breath to warm her skin.

Bellamy glanced up one more time, finding the acceptance in her eyes before a lazy grin stretched across his face. 

“Enjoying the view, princess?” 

The words were a low, rough rumble that made her bite her lip rather than answer. She just knew he’d uttered that damn nickname on purpose, now knowing exactly what it did to her. Still, she tried not to break just from his voice - for now. But when he brushed a featherlight kiss over her curls, she was unable to help her slight whimper. 

“If you wanted to watch,” he drawled, “I could think of better ways to do this.” His wicked tone sent all sorts of thoughts whirling through her mind as her imagination took flight. 

“Damn you,” Clarke whispered, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. She strained to keep her hips still, but the same couldn’t be said for her shaky voice. “S-should’ve… thought of that sooner. Stop teasing.”

Bellamy chuckled deeply. “If you insist.” Then he flattened his tongue against her without warning, licking up long and deep. The spark of pleasure sizzled up her body, emerging in a surprised cry that tore from her lips. Her head dropped back, her hands twisting in the bedsheets. With a quiet hum, Bellamy dug one hand into her hipbone and the other in the soft flesh of her thigh.

“That’s it,” he said hoarsely, swiping at her again. “Fuck, I love the noises you make.” 

“Oh god,” Clarke moaned brokenly, unable to do much except buck forcefully against his mouth. 

“You know what’s better though?” His tongue flicked over her clit, sending shocks pulsing everywhere. Her breaths came raggedly as she tried to focus against the onslaught of pleasure firing through her nerve endings. “I love how you say my name,” he admitted, and his voice dipped so low that she nearly came on the spot.

“Bellamy, please…”

He hummed in agreement, and the vibration against her folds sent her spiraling. With both hands splayed surely over her hips, he began to lap noisily in deep, hard strokes. The sound made her blush fiercely, evidence of just how badly she wanted him. She lifted her head again, forcing her eyes to stay open. His cheeks hollowed as he worked at her, every movement deliberate and insistent.

Bellamy looked up, finding her gaze. His mouth glistened with wetness. _Hers._ “Like that, princess?”

She trembled. “Don’t stop, Bell, please don’t-” Her hand curled into his hair, pushing him back down as her hips shamelessly canted up, opening her further to his tongue plunging in and out. When he added a long finger, she cursed spectacularly and felt him grin in response. Needing an anchor, her hands scrabbled uselessly at the sheets before finding his hand that gripped her waist. Their fingers wove together over her skin and she sighed, her head sinking back into the pillows. 

The pressure built sharply with every swirl of his tongue and the rough pad of his finger deep inside her, until it was nearly unbearable. Soon her hips began to move erratically, chasing the release that dangled just out of reach. _“Bellamy,”_ she begged. He moaned and slid another finger in, curling deep as his mouth found her clit and sucked.

Clarke broke with a wail, her back curving sharply as she clung to his hand. The wave rolled through her limbs, her eyes shut tight against the force of it. True to his word, Bellamy tasted every drop, easing her through it until she flopped back against the bed, utterly spent.

He took his time making his way up her body, a smirk pasted firmly on his face. She told herself she’d wipe it off in a few minutes, once she’d recovered from her current boneless state.

“That… that was…” When Clarke trailed off in astonishment, he laughed and kissed her gently. She kissed him back, curiously tasting herself on his lips.

“That was something I will be doing again,” he promised.

 _No argument here,_ Clarke thought drowsily. At Bellamy’s low chuckle, she blushed, realizing the words hadn’t just been confined to her head. 

“But first,” he nuzzled her neck, “I think you need a shower.” Without warning, he scooped her up off the mattress. Her surprised laugh echoed off the walls long afterwards.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!!! This story reached 1000+ kudos! *flails* I can’t tell you how much this means to me, honestly. Thank you so freaking much. I can’t say it enough. You guys are the best. Sending endless hugs and kisses your way <333

Clarke could now say with complete certainty that she was well-acquainted with Bellamy’s shower - or rather, the shower wall, seeing as she’d braced herself against it more times than she could count in one morning.

“How am I ever supposed to take a normal shower in here now?” She demanded breathlessly at one point, to which Bellamy only laughed and crowded her against the cool tile. The water ran in rivulets down his muscled body, plastering his hair to his face. She thought she could drink him in for hours and it still wouldn't be enough. Then his mouth was searing a path across her skin, lingering so long that she forgot what the hell her question had even been.

Clarke was still lost in the warm and fuzzy feelings when they finally decided a late breakfast was in order - did it count as breakfast if it was past noon already? She giggled to herself. Only then did she realize how hungry she actually was, and her stomach cheered in relief, having finally won a single battle against her hormones.

Her hair still damp from the shower - _yeah, she’d never look at it the same way again_ \- she dressed in another one of Bellamy’s shirts and sweats and began to rifle through the kitchen cabinets. The radio was on, playing faintly in the background and making her unconsciously sway on the balls of her feet as she made coffee. She hummed along to the melody, fingers tapping on the counter in time to the sweet tune while she pulled out various ingredients from his cupboards.

She didn’t even realize Bellamy was standing a few feet away, simply watching, until she went to grab something from the fridge. With a smile, Clarke leaned up and pecked his cheek in greeting, completely missing the gentle look on his face. She turned back to the counter, eyes wandering over the items.

“So do you want pancakes or waff-” The question died in her throat when Bellamy’s arms wrapped around her waist, folding her against his chest. He tenderly nuzzled her cheek before dropping his chin to her shoulder with a small, contented sigh. Clarke rested back against him, a blissful feeling sweeping through her body from head to toe. Wordlessly, her hands covered his. They stood like that for a few moments until she twisted in his grip so she could slide her arms around his back, laying her head over his heart.

And if maybe, just maybe, she was still swaying a little in time to the song - _tell the world that we finally got it all right_ \- he didn’t seem to mind.

~~~~~~~~

She eventually did have to leave his apartment later that evening, but only because they both had night shifts to get ready for. Still, it wasn’t without more than a little delay on both their parts. 

Especially when she found her dress again - it took her two tries to put it on without Bellamy immediately finding a way to get her out of it. Okay, so the second time he hadn’t really gotten her out of it as much as gotten himself under it, but… regardless. It wasn’t as if she’d resisted particularly hard.

He insisted on walking her home, so it was hand in hand that they approached her building. The quiet melody from earlier had been tumbling around in her head the whole way, and she didn’t realize her head was nodding side to side until she caught Bellamy’s look and blushed. He chuckled and swung and arm over her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her. Clarke twisted her fingers into his shirt when he tried to pull back, unwilling to let go right away. He smiled against her mouth.

“Hey loverboy!” The loud yell made them both jump. “Mind giving my friend back for an hour or three?”

Their heads snapped up to the third-story window, where Raven was currently half-leaning out, a Cheshire cat grin stamped across her face. Clarke groaned, looking apologetically at Bellamy. But he was smirking now, his arm tightening around her.

“I dunno,” he mused just as loudly. “Maybe just an hour. I don’t think I can go longer than that without at least a kiss.” The end of his statement was followed by a light pinch to her side, making her squeak.

While she shoved him, Raven unconvincingly called out, “You make me sick.” Bellamy laughed as Clarke held a middle finger up to her friend.

She grinned, tugging him close for another swift kiss. “Gotta go. See you tomorrow?”

He hummed in agreement, stealing another long kiss before a pointed cough made them pull apart, laughing. With a cheeky wink, he began walking backwards down the sidewalk. “Bye, princess.”

Clarke waved and hurried inside, trying to calm her galloping heart as she headed upstairs. The smile and flush were going absolutely nowhere, so she didn’t even bother trying to hide them. When she got to the top step and fumbled for her keys, the apartment door suddenly swung open and she was yanked inside into the arms of two cheering girls.

“Oh my god,” Clarke groaned where her face was currently smashed into Raven’s shoulder, “you two are unbelievable.”

“We were going to get confetti, maybe a cake. Even balloons were discussed at one point,” Octavia informed her from somewhere behind her. “But then we decided our shining faces would be enough.”

Raven pulled back and held her face in both hands, her expression dead serious as she said, “My dear sweet Clarke, I am so proud of you… for finally getting some.” Then she burst into laughter.

Clarke rolled her eyes and pushed her friend away, only to be met by Octavia’s wiggling eyebrows. “Not you too,” Clarke protested. “What happened to ‘ew he’s my brother?’ “

“Still true. But considering that he looked about as happy as I’ve ever seen him, I can move past that.”

“Okay, I’m leaving now.” Clarke headed for her room, knowing her friends would only follow. As she began digging in her closet for the cleanest pair of scrubs she could find, Raven plopped down on the bed.

“I am not letting you go anywhere without details, woman.”

“Okay, no, come on,” Octavia protested, and Clarke laughed.

“What was that about being happy for him, O?” She ducked when a pillow came flying her way. “Besides,” she turned and set her hands on her hips. “How do you two even know what happened? I stay there most nights nowadays.”

Octavia rolled her eyes, like _really?_ “Please. Bell was ready to ravish you the second you opened the door yesterday. It was inevitable.”

“I second that,” Raven chimed in.

“You weren’t even there!”

“Not last night. But I _was_ when he planted that kiss on you in Stratton in front of The Douchemeister.”

Clarke blinked, taking a second to realize she meant Finn. “New nickname?”

“Came up with it myself.”

“You sure? Sounds an awful lot like something Wick would say…” 

“Stop trying to distract me,” Raven ordered. “The point is, why are you even trying to deny it?”

Clarke held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, I give. Happy?”

“Hell no! I want details. Like, for instance, how that holy grail of a hickey ended up on your neck, and where are the rest of them?” Raven yanked her down on the mattress, ignoring her yelp. Octavia was growing paler by the second.

“Clarke, you know I love you, but-”

“Go, please,” Clarke laughed as her friend noisily kissed her cheek and rushed out the door. She raised an eyebrow at Raven. “Happy now?”

She got a poke in the side in response. _”Details!”_

Clarke flung herself back on the bed with a sigh. “I don’t even know where to start. I just… fuck.” 

“That good, huh?”

“Better.” She threw an arm over her eyes, knowing the words were about to tumble out no matter what. “Raven, I think I’m in love with him.”

 _“What!”_ Her friend’s screech might have been heard down the block. As it was, she nearly yanked her arm out of its socket. “Holy shit. _Octaviaaaa!_ Get your ass back in here!”

The brunette came flying in two seconds later, panting heavily. “What the hell, guys?”

“Your best friend is in love with your brother,” Raven answered promptly.

Octavia’s mouth dropped open and she sat down hard on the floor as Clarke threw her arm back over her face. After a full minute of silence, she felt a tentative hand on her knee. “Clarke?” Octavia asked.

“Yeah yeah, I know, make you choose and you’ll hurt me,” she muttered.

A small laugh sounded. “No, not that. I- Don’t kill me for asking, but are you sure?”

Clarke finally sat up, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah. _Yes._ I think I’ve known for a while now but I was just trying not to focus on it. I’m not sure how much longer I can do that.”

“So don’t.” When she looked over warily, Octavia glared. “I mean it. Don’t hide it. You know Bellamy. He doesn’t deserve anything other than honesty. If you love him, make sure he knows it.”

It was true, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying.

“Hey, come here,” Raven’s voice was uncharacteristically soft as she pulled Clarke’s head into her lap. “I agree with Blake junior that you need to tell him. But I also get it if you want to wait - just a little longer,” she added, glancing quickly at Octavia. “Having your heart broken tends to make you more cautious, no matter how much you want to believe it won’t happen again.”

Clarke squeezed her friend’s knee in thanks. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Raven’s hand absently combing through her hair. Then she noticed a strange look on Octavia’s face. “What is it?” She asked.

A slow smile began to unfurl as she looked at Raven. “Did you just call me Blake junior?” Octavia asked, a note of glee in her voice. Clarke’s mouth dropped open, putting two and two together instantly.

Raven shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“ _So,_ ” Octavia drawled pointedly, “I only know one other person who calls me that, and _he_ is at work right now with my brother.”

Clarke grinned delightedly at Raven, who was suddenly very interested in the ceiling. “Something you want to tell us, dear?”

“Bite me.”

Clarke glanced at Octavia with a raised eyebrow. They nodded in unison. A second later Clarke sat up as Octavia pounced, and together they tackled Raven onto the bed, dissolving into laughter.

~~~~~~~~

Over a week later, Clarke was lying on her mattress again, but this time her mind was a cloudy haze thanks to the boy currently trailing lazy kisses down her stomach. They weren't usually in the habit of getting get too cozy at her place, only because it had been somewhat of a revolving door of people lately - not to mention his sister’s strict no naked rule - but today Clarke knew for a fact that Octavia was at dance practice and Raven was stuck in the lab. 

And so after class she’d promptly dragged Bellamy up the stairs and into her room, covering his chuckles with a long kiss and roaming fingers that got him up to her level _very_ fast.

Now she was blessedly unaware of anything except the touch of cool sheets on her back and his lips moving like a wave down her front, tousled curls brushing along her skin and adding to all the pinpricks of sensation slowly building in her.

Bellamy pulled her jeans and underwear off in one swoop, nearly falling off the mattress in his haste. Clarke’s bright laugh turned into a moan when he shoved a leg over his shoulder and flattened his tongue against her slit without warning. He smiled, the jerk, then did it again, pausing to watch her head fall back on the pillow. 

When he didn’t make a further move, she whined. _“Bellamy,_ come on.” That only resulted a bite to the inside of her thigh, making her gasp in surprise as his tongue laved the area immediately. Wiggling her hips got her nowhere, only another soft kiss that made her ache for more. “I swear to god, Bell, I’ll finish this myself-”

He grabbed her wandering hand and pressed it into the mattress. “That didn’t work last time, what makes you think it’ll work now?” A wordless grunt escaped her mouth in frustration. Bellamy smirked against her skin. “Speaking of last time,” he said slowly, “I got my water bill yesterday.”

The words took a moment to break through her hazy mind. “Hmm?” 

“My water bill,” Bellamy repeated. “It arrived yesterday.”

She cracked her eyes open in astonishment, because he was literally right between her splayed legs, his mouth scant inches from her cunt, and he was _telling her about his water bill._ She was ready to kill him. 

“And you thought I should know that _right now?_ ” Clarke squeaked, outraged.

He shrugged, shoulders nudging her thighs even further apart to the point of shame, if she’d been capable of that anymore. His eyes flicked from her face to her cunt and back again. The grin on his face was beyond cocky.

“Thought it was appropriate.” 

The image rushed into her mind without warning, how just two days earlier she’d been in a similarly desperate state, except that time their positions had been reversed. It had been Bellamy’s back pressed against shower wall, fingers twisted into her hair and hips bucking helplessly as she sank to her knees and took him into her mouth-- 

“I hate you,” Clarke moaned, feeling a fresh wave of heat slither down her body.

He chuckled, a hint of stubble dragging over her skin and making her back arch. Her hips tilted upwards, begging, and finally he complied, shoving his face between her legs and lapping her up like she was a main course and dessert all mixed in one, relentlessly dragging her into bliss with just his mouth until she was calling to him.

Aftershocks ran through her body as Bellamy sat back with a satisfied smirk, wiping his chin. He really was far too good at that, she decided. Not that she was complaining a single damn bit. He crawled up to stretch out beside her, running his fingers lightly up and down her arm and pressing soft kisses along her shoulder until she managed to find her breath.

Clarke twisted and hungrily captured his mouth, her hand slipping down to pull his cock from the confines of his pants. She’d just shifted to sit atop him, fingers wrapped firmly around his hard length, when there came the unmistakable sound of the door opening and then slamming shut.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Clarke? You here?” Octavia’s voice sounded out.

“Shit,” she whispered, frantically scrambling off the bed and locking her door. “Well, don’t just sit there,” she hissed at Bellamy. His hair rucked up every which way, he looked dazed and turned on and beautiful.

He also looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “You know we told her about us already, right?”

Clarke threw his shirt at him. “I know, but do you _really_ want your sister to walk in on you _like this_?” She motioned to his current state. “She has a freaking _rule_ … oh god, she’s going to kill me.”

Now he was definitely fighting a laugh, apparently far too amused by her distress. Footsteps proceeded down the hall, and seconds later the doorknob jiggled.

“Clarke?”

“Yeah, hey O, I’m here.” Damn, even her voice sounded wrecked. “Sorry, I was just resting. Didn’t hear you.” She coughed to cover the sound of her hopping in place as she slipped on her underwear. Bellamy’s unabashed gaze was absolutely no help whatsoever. “I thought you had practice?”

“It got cancelled,” came the glum reply. “Mel broke her foot on a ski trip. We have to rework the whole routine now.”

“Ouch. That sucks.” Clarke found her bra and latched it on, glaring at Bellamy when he didn’t match her rush to get dressed. He only grinned, standing and making a show of stretching after zipping his pants.

“Anyways,” Octavia continued, “I was gonna order food, you want in?”

“Yeah, sure, sounds great!” Clarke spun in a circle, trying to find her shirt, only to see Bellamy holding it with a wicked look. She jumped, trying to snatch it from his hands, but he only held it higher up, grinning widely. 

“Clarke, you okay? You sound weird.”

“Yeah,” she panted, “fine.”

“Can you at least unlock the door?”

At that, Bellamy’s eyes flitted over distractedly and Clarke grabbed her shirt. “N-no! I, uh, I… I have a rash!”

Bellamy’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Before any sound could emerge, he smashed his face into a pillow, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. She shoved him half-heartedly, trying not to burst into maniacal giggles herself. 

“Uh huh…” Octavia said in disbelief. When a loud snort escaped Bellamy, Clarke hurriedly clapped a hand over his mouth. There was silence for a full minute until Octavia cleared her throat. “Clarke,” she said slowly, “Would that rash happen to be my brother?”

 _Ah, shit._

Bellamy burst out laughing as Clarke put her head in her hands, hearing Octavia’s sharp intake of breath. “Oh my god.” If anything, her friend sounded about as mortified as she felt at the moment. Bellamy was still chuckling as he threw on his shirt and hugged her close, swinging the door open.

“Hey there O!” He exclaimed. “So nice to see you.” 

Clarke still had her face pressed into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she moaned in embarrassment. “Never again, I promise.”

“Never say never,” Bellamy replied, grunting when he received two different bony elbows in the ribs.

Clarke peeked through her fingers at her friend, who still looked a little pale but was mostly trying not to smile. She hoped that was a good sign. “Seriously, I’m really sorry, O.” She was going to be apologizing forever. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

“She did plan it quite well,” Bellamy agreed, a little too cheeky.

She smacked his arm. “ _So not helping_ ,” she hissed.

To her surprise, his sister sniggered and rolled her eyes. “Damn, you two have got it baaaaaad,” she sang out, and Clarke felt a little vindictive when even Bellamy rubbed his neck sheepishly. 

Octavia headed back down the hall. “Anyways, I’m just glad I didn’t invite Jasper and Monty back with me. Now _that_ would have been awkward.”

Clarke knocked her head softly against the wall, hearing both siblings laugh behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song on the radio in the first scene is Sara Bareilles' I Choose You because it's perfect and so are they and I'm a sucker.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finally gets the full story about Bellamy's nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! This chapter finally deals with Bellamy’s nightmares that were glimpsed back in Chapter 16, so I wanted to do it right. I’ll admit it got angsty and I’m still a little nervous, but I tried to do it justice. Of course, it ends on a fluffy note because it’s me and I refuse to leave things on a sad note.

Being head over heels in love with Bellamy was magnificent and terrifying all at once. It meant she noticed every little thing about him when they were together - somehow _still_ discovering new details each day - and when they were apart, her thoughts were filled by him. Half the time, she just wanted to be around him, even if they weren't doing anything or were both absorbed in their schoolwork. Just _being_ with him was what made her heart flutter. It was distracting, it was consuming, it was never-ending, and Clarke soaked up every single moment.

She couldn’t be sure if he felt the same, not without outright asking him - something she really didn’t want to do. Regardless of how she felt, pressuring him was not how she wanted this to go. She was just searching for a way to vocalize her own feelings without making him feel like he had to return them on the spot. 

Octavia still bugged her on a daily basis, eyebrows wagging or arching in silent question whenever her brother was in the room, but Clarke still couldn’t quite say the words out loud. The timing was never right. Sometimes she’d feel them on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill out, and then they’d get interrupted by someone - or their own hormones - and the words would slip away, back into her heart where they echoed endlessly.

In the meantime, though, she held on to what he’d promised her from the beginning - they were all in, “110 percent” as he put it, and to that, he was always faithful. It was all she could ask for, and more. 

But being in love also meant she caught even the smallest things that she would have otherwise dismissed. And lately, there was one thing that had been nagging at her, something more concerning, and in her opinion, more important than her jumbled feelings. 

Bellamy wasn’t sleeping. At all. More worrying, she suspected it was on purpose.

The first few nights, she’d chalked it up to stress at work. They’d both had their fair share of crappy shifts, and so she hadn’t argued when he asked to start another movie at midnight, or woken her up a little extra early one morning with his mouth and hands. But that didn’t distract her from the bags under his eyes, the way he practically swayed on his feet, how he changed the topic whenever she tried to inch near the cause of his behavior. 

But when Octavia worriedly pulled her aside one afternoon to ask if she’d noticed anything strange about Bellamy lately, Clarke decided enough was enough.

On the next night that she found herself at Bellamy’s apartment, curled into his side on the couch as yet another movie finished, she yawned hugely and pulled him to bed. Any protests were covered by her sleepy kisses until he finally smiled against her lips and let her tug him under the covers. Though his arms remained around her, she could feel the tenseness slowly returning to his limbs.

Not wanting him to withdraw, she began to talk. Her voice felt too loud in the silence of the room, and for a while she felt like maybe he didn’t need to know every detail of her physiology class, but in the middle of explaining neuronal structures she felt his fingers brush lightly over her hair, and so she kept talking about dendrites and axons and receptors, fighting sleep until all of Bellamy’s resistance finally melted. At his soft snore, she pressed a kiss directly over his heart before letting her own eyes drift shut. 

~~~~~~~~

Hours later, she woke up in the darkness to the sound of Bellamy’s harsh breaths. This time she didn’t hesitate. She tugged at his shoulder to roll him onto his back, clambering atop him. His face was drawn, eyes squeezed shut.

“Bell.” Clarke shook him hard, leaning down until her breath ghosted over his ear. “Bellamy, it’s a dream. Wake up. It’s me, it’s Clarke. You’re okay.”

She kept murmuring until his eyes sprang open, dark and pained. His hands grasped her waist as he stared up at her, breathing heavily. “It’s alright,” she said softly. “I’m here.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, keeping the touch light and gentle until his chest stopped its desperate heaving. Bellamy took a long, shaky breath, then tapped her cheek.

“Sorry. I’m fine now. Go back to sleep, princess.”

“Bell-”

“Really, it’s okay. I’m alright,” he insisted quietly. “Thanks for waking me up.”

Clarke studied him for an extra minute before finally sliding off him. But she stayed pressed against his side, unwilling to lose all contact. His arm curled around her shoulder, fingers playing with her hair as he stared up at the ceiling. She watched him as long as she could, but her eyelids began to droop without her permission and the small circles he was drawing on her arm slowly lulled her back into sleep.

When she woke up next, she was alone. _No no no nono-_ Panicking, Clarke scrambled off the bed and flung the door open, sagging against the doorframe in relief when she saw his long form stretched out on the couch. 

“Damnit, Bellamy,” she sighed.

His eyes popped open, and she knew he hadn’t slept a wink. He sat up as she walked over, her eyes flitting to the red mug on the table. “I couldn’t get back to sleep,” he said, voice scratchy. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

“Idiot. I thought you left… ” She shook her head, chewing her lip, Bellamy’s eyes widened. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to stand in the vee of his legs.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She met his serious gaze, seeing the truth in his eyes, and nodded. “Okay. So scoot over.”

He blinked. “Clarke, you don’t have to-”

She crossed her arms, pouting. “I’m not doing this for you. I can’t sleep properly without you next to me anymore, even though you hog all the blankets. So even if you intend to sleep on the floor, I’ll end up there too. It’s all very selfish, really.”

A hint of a smile flickered on his face. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she hit his shoulder lightly. “So move over, you big lug.”

Bellamy held her gaze for a moment longer and then shifted, patting the space next to him. Clarke crawled in quickly, letting out a happy sigh when he laid back down next to her. Instead of turning to his side, he wound an arm under her neck, pulling her against his chest. She wedged a leg between both of this, her back nestled against the cushions and her head tucked under his chin.

“Better?” He asked. It sounded like he was smiling.

“Mhm,” she murmured sleepily.

She wrapped an arm around him and held on tightly, drifting back to sleep until the first early rays of light streamed through the blinds in the living room. As her eyes fluttered open, she registered the solid weight of Bellamy under her, the even rise and fall of his chest and the steady heartbeat below her ear. Clarke smiled and closed her eyes again, content to remain there until he woke.

When he did, it was accompanied by a huge yawn as he stretched out his limbs. She rested her chin atop his chest and looked up. “Morning, boyfriend.”

“Hey you.” His voice was thick with sleep, but gratitude shone in his eyes. He gently cradled her cheek. She let him look at her without a word, recognizing the small, thoughtful frown on his face. Eventually the lines eased and he offered a small smile.

“Thank you, for last night. I…” He swallowed, and she opened her mouth to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but he put a finger to her lips. “It doesn’t happen as often anymore, but I’m sorry you had to see it twice now without a real explanation.”

“You already told me,” she said, but he shook his head.

“Sort of, but you deserve to know all of it. I’ve been trying to find the right time, but, well… it’s not something you just bring up over coffee.” 

Clarke brought his hand close, kissing his palm before winding their fingers together. “I get it. Though I’m still going to be here even if you can’t tell me yet.”

“I know.” He smiled briefly and motioned for her to sit up, following and planting his legs on the floor. His shoulders hunched over, burdened by some invisible weight, and she was desperate to relieve him of it however she could. So she kept hold of his hand and waited.

Bellamy took a deep breath, looking over at her. “Has Octavia ever told you anything about how mom died?”

“Just that it was a car accident,” she replied softly.

He nodded, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “She doesn’t remember much. Just people coming and going, lots of paperwork, right?” Clarke nodded, figuring he’d heard her tell it before. 

His fingers gripped hers more tightly. “It happened on her way home. I was on the porch, reading this book of poetry she loved. That was our thing, after O was asleep, mom and I would stay up and read aloud at least one poem each.” 

Clarke was hated the pain that twisted his features. She almost wanted him to stop reliving it, but she saw that this was important, that he needed to tell her, so she just leaned against him in silent support.

Bellamy cleared his throat. “Anyways, I’d checked on Octavia and I was sitting outside, waiting for mom to get back from work. I always heard her car before I saw it,” a corner of his mouth lifted briefly, “the thing was falling apart, you could hear it coming a mile away, and… damn, I don’t know how I knew, princess, but that night when she didn’t turn the corner at 9:20 on the dot, I just got this feeling in my gut that something had happened.”

He drew a hand over his face. “It probably sounds dumb now, but-”

“No. No it’s not,” Clarke interrupted quickly. At his glance, she explained, “The morning they diagnosed my dad with stage four prostate cancer, I was in school. I remember walking down the hall and checking the clock at 10:15, because he’d mentioned he had a checkup at 10a.m. Then… shit, it still sounds weird to say it out loud.”

It was quiet for a moment as she gathered herself. “I always used to carry around my art supplies in this huge yellow bag he’d gotten for free with one of his orders, and it was so sturdy, we always joked it would be the one thing to outlast my supplies, but,” she paused, swallowing thickly, “it ripped. Right then and there, in the middle of the hall, the bottom just gave way. It was the silliest thing, but I just remember hoping that it wasn’t a sign or something.”

She looked up to see a sad understanding in Bellamy’s eyes. “So anyways, I get it. It’s not dumb.”

His thumb stroked over her hand. “I’ve been trusting my gut ever since.”

“Sometimes it’s all we’ve got,” she replied, and he nodded. When he picked up his story again, there was a raw ache in his voice that made her throat glue itself together.

“I sat on that porch for I don’t know how long, just staring at the corner, willing her to _hurry up._ Then the cops called. There was an accident at the intersection not far from home. She was crossing when another car blew through the stop sign right into the driver’s side.” 

Clarke sucked in a breath and Bellamy looked at her miserably. “They ran her license plate and got our info. Wanted me to go down there to confirm details, file a report.” 

He raked a hand through his hair. “Despite everything, my first thought was that it was a mistake, you know? It couldn’t be her.”

She knew that feeling, too. Endless hours of online research and checked-out medical journals from the library, fixating on the one article, one mention to give her some kind of hope. Ignoring the vast majority of evidence that told her practical mind there wasn’t much point.

“I was convinced I just had to get close enough to see for myself,” Bellamy continued. “But halfway down the block I realized O was back at the house, and I just stood there freaking out for like a full minute until our neighbor came out to walk her dog. It was this old lady who always hated me because I used to trample her flowers every spring chasing Octavia around. But that day she stayed back with O while I ran down there.” His voice caught for a moment. 

Clarke pressed her lips to his shoulder without a word. 

Bellamy sighed raggedly. “You know I still remember… the other car was red, how stupid is that, I remember the color because mom always used to say red cars belonged to dangerous drivers and I promised her I’d be safe, but I wanted to paint her car red…” 

When the first tear splashed down his cheek, Clarke crawled into his lap and enfolded him into her arms, unsure of who was shaking more. “That’s enough,” she insisted, but he shook his head where it was buried against her shoulder.

“Please, I just… I need you to know. It’s a part of me that’s never going away.”

“Okay.” She didn’t let go, though, just waited for him to lift his head and speak against her ear.

“When I got there they’d already confirmed it was her. They said it was quick, likely on impact. I saw her ratty blue purse on the pavement and just sort of lost it. The head officer… he wouldn’t let me near the wreck. I fought him for a long time, screamed and said all sorts of things, probably should have been charged with assault after the shiner I gave him. But he wouldn’t budge. To this day I’m thankful for it.” 

He exhaled shakily. “I want to remember her how she always was, you know?”

Clarke nodded, rubbing his back. “Keep the good times close to your heart,” she murmured, repeating something her mom had once told her.

“Yeah. Anyways,” Bellamy continued roughly, “I was messed up for a while. Octavia was the only thing that really kept me sane. When the nightmares began, they tried to put me in therapy, give me meds - I did it all. None of it helped. Eventually I just started working myself to the bone until I was so tired that I had no choice but to sleep.” Clarke’s heart twisted for him, even more so because he’d had to do this alone. 

“Besides,” he added, “I had a teenager to take care of, along with paying the bills and somehow graduating. It was really O who got me through the whole thing. She says I’m the one who took care of her, but it’s really the other way around.”

He took a deep breath. “The dreams… they’re unpredictable. There's no trigger that I can tell. Sometimes I can go weeks without one, and other times…”

“It’s like it happened yesterday.” Clarke finished the thought because this, she understood. The remembering, the not knowing, the up and down rollercoaster of being better one day and suddenly hitting rock bottom the next.

“Exactly,” he rasped. Then he tucked his face into the crook of her neck, his body going lax in her grip like he was drained of energy. She brushed her lips over any part of him she could reach, trying to offer some form of comfort simply through touch. 

“You are by far the strongest person I’ve ever known,” she said quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.”

They sat there holding each other for a long time, and Clarke didn’t let go until she felt Bellamy’s breathing even out against her skin. Gently, she unwound herself from his lap and pushed him to lay back, swinging his legs up onto the couch. When she lifted his head to wedge a pillow beneath it, he only murmured and settled in further, so she grabbed one of the large blankets and draped it over him. With a soft kiss to his cheek, she slipped back into his room and dug around in her bag for her phone. She sent the same text twice - first to Octavia, then her mother.

_Hey. I love you, you know that right?_

Her mother’s reply was automatic. _Love you too, sweetie._

When her phone buzzed again, Clarke looked down and grinned at Octavia’s text. _You too, weirdo. Everything ok?_

_Bell told me about his nightmares._

This time when the phone buzzed, her friend was calling. Octavia plowed forward as soon as she picked up. “Is he okay? Did he-”

“Sshhh. He’s asleep right now,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted you to know.”

“No, I’m glad you said something. It’s no wonder he’s been out of sorts. He has a bad habit of keeping that shit to himself.” Octavia sighed. “Has it been happening a lot?”

“Just twice since we’ve been together. The first time was before you snuck in to make pancakes,” she smiled, knowing Octavia was too.

“Okay. That’s not too bad, I guess. Sometimes it’s worse. There’s not really a pattern or anything. It just… ”

“Sucks,” Clarke finished. “I understand. I’m not going anywhere,” she added, a little defensive.

“I know,” her friend replied softly. “Thank you, Clarke. I mean it, really. He deserves to have someone looking out for him too, after all this time.”

“I agree.” She picked at a thread on her shirt. “Listen, O, I haven’t told him how I feel yet but-”

“It’s alright. This… this is bigger than that. Way bigger. And honestly you two are so obvious you don’t even have to say it. We all know.”

Clarke resisted a small laugh. “Still. I will tell him. Just, when it feels right.”

“I know,” Octavia said again. “Call if you need anything, alright?”

“I will,” she promised.

She dropped the phone in her bag again, sitting there for a while with her thoughts. Her mind kept circling back to one thing, though: she refused to let Bellamy face this alone ever again.

Some time later, she quietly stepped back outside. Smiling at Bellamy’s sleeping form, she crept into the kitchen and checked the cabinets, glad to see he’d been stocking up on the pancake mix. A glance into his fridge told her he had eggs and milk, and soon she was mixing the ingredients in a large bowl, doing her best not to lick every spoon along the way. 

Clarke hummed softly to herself, swaying on the spot as she smoothed out the lumps in the batter and sprayed the pan. Actually making the pancakes would likely wake him up, so she delayed it as long as possible. When she licked batter off her fingers for the third time, a small chuckle from the couch made her turn around.

Bellamy had an arm tucked behind his head as he watched her adoringly, a sweet smile curving his lips. The stress from earlier had retreated considerably, though she still searched long and hard for any hint that his nap had been less than peaceful. But he was genuine as he stared back, tired but content, and she finally relaxed, returning his smile with a shy one of her own.

“Hey. How long have you been up?”

He shrugged. “Long enough.”

She shook a mocking finger at him. “And here I was trying to be extra quiet so you could sleep.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding it one bit. Rolling her eyes, Clarke turned back to the food, turning on the gas and setting the pan overtop to heat up. Bellamy’s feet shuffled softly on the floor as he wandered into the kitchen. She glanced up and grinned at the sight of his ruffled hair sticking up every which way. He moved more lightly than he had in the past few days, and she hoped, if anything, she could now share some of the weight whenever it got to be too much.

God, she loved him so much it hurt.

Bellamy caught her look at that moment and smiled, coming to stand behind her as she brought the batter closer to the stove. As she reached out for the spatula, his arms wrapped around her waist and she squeaked when his mouth landed on her neck.

“Bell, I’m trying to make you breakfast,” she protested weakly. His chuckle rumbled against her skin, sending a small shiver down her frame.

“I’m honored,” he murmured. “That’s what, the third time now you’ve cooked for me?”

“Fourth,” she corrected automatically, then blushed. 

“Wow. I’m a lucky guy.” She elbowed him, only to have his lips skate down her neck, lingering until she sighed and arched to give him more room. He nuzzled her cheek and whispered, “Seriously. Good to know I’m doing at least one thing right.” 

“More than _one_ thing.” Twisting her head, she chased the laugh from his mouth with a lazy kiss, their tongues tangling until she was out of breath. 

“If you say so,” Bellamy replied. “Now, not to delay breakfast even further, but I’m thinking we can find a better use for syrup,” he said, and _oh sweet lord_ if that didn’t turn her insides to jelly. She gripped his arm tightly, willing her knees not to buckle on the spot as he nibbled along her jaw. 

Bellamy paused after tracing his tongue along the shell of her ear. “Thoughts, princess?”

Nodding frantically, she switched off the stove and dropped the spatula, turning and rising to her toes to kiss him, her hands sinking into his hair. He picked her up quickly, and they made it halfway to the bedroom before Clarke laughed and whispered against his mouth that he’d forgotten the syrup on the counter. 

After they’d gotten each other and his sheets well and properly sticky, she laid there boneless and giddy for a while, trying not to squirm every time his eager tongue found an untasted patch of syrup along her skin. Eventually they ended up in the shower, where she decided there was nothing better than seeing Bellamy doubled over in laughter, even if it took her slipping on the bath tile to make it happen.

He threw his sheets in the washer while she finished making pancakes, and even though she burned a lot of them, he ate every single one with a happy smile.

“Syrup will never be the same,” she sighed, and he began to laugh again.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andddd back to the smut we go. (apparently writing this story is a great motivator for getting real-life stuff done haha, I'd banned myself from posting until I finished, and now I'm early!)

It was kind of ridiculous, really.

The band was playing, the bar was packed, and drinks and tips were exchanging hands so quickly Bellamy could barely keep track. And yet, all he could think about was Clarke. More specifically, having his way with Clarke at some point very soon.

He had no idea where or even how it could happen. All he knew was that ever since she’d come in with his sister and a group of their friends, wearing the shirt she’d taken from _his_ closet that morning overtop what had to be the smallest shorts known to man, some primal instinct had taken over that made him want to, quite simply, fuck her brains out.

And judging from the look on her face, she knew it.

Things had been different between them ever since that morning he’d told her the root of his nightmares. But not different in a bad way. More like, heightened. Like any shred of barrier in their way had been removed, and she saw him for everything he was - good, bad, and ugly. And she was still here.

If he had it his way, he was never going to let her go.

As always, it didn’t take long for him to get distracted by her tonight. He narrowly avoided spilling another drink, sliding the glass across the counter with a quick thanks. He glanced over to their table again. Lincoln was talking to his friend, someone Bellamy didn’t know, but they were both enjoying the music. Currently the band was in the midst of a cover, something he vaguely recognized as an Echosmith song that had been on the radio for months now. 

Miller had stopped on his way back to the bar to chat with Monty, whose hands flailed wildly while he spoke. Jasper and a dark-haired girl - Maya, if he had to guess - had their heads bowed together as they talked in a corner. Raven was taking a sip of her drink, listening to whatever Octavia was shouting into her ear while pretending like she wasn’t looking at Wick, who was standing by the door with a huge grin on his face. From what he knew, the two of them had been seeing more of each other, though Raven adamantly refused to call it dating, and Wick absolutely wouldn’t call it anything but. It was all highly amusing to him, and even more so to Clarke, who took every pleasure in bringing it up.

Speaking of his princess, she was swaying back and forth in her seat in time to the song. As if pulled by his gaze, Clarke’s eyes shifted over to him. A corner of her mouth lifted. _Hi,_ she mouthed.

Bellamy chuckled. _Hi._ He crooked a finger at her.

She hopped down from her chair and walked over to the bar, those sinfully long legs on full display. Innocently, she leaned against the counter, though her grin was anything but. Bellamy reached out and put a hand on her neck to draw her lips roughly to his. The kiss wasn’t soft or sweet, his tongue invading her mouth with urgency. Her moan vibrated against him just as the music soared.

Clarke was a tad dazed when they pulled apart. “Nice to see you too,” she said breathlessly. Then she looked at his mouth and giggled. Her thumb reached out to swipe across his lips, coming away with a splotch of dark red. Her lipstick. Of course.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Marking your territory, princess?”

Though Clarke only shrugged, Bellamy didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered over to the girls sitting at the other end of the bar, only to have them hastily avert their own gazes. She was decidedly more smug when she looked back at him, and he had to wet his mouth several times as he thought of other places he wanted her to leave a mark. Clarke’s eyes darkened to a stormy blue as she caught the look on his face. 

The band chose that moment to end their song to raucous applause, and the two of them snapped out of the delirium, a little sheepish. Bellamy laughed and kissed her finger noisily.

One of the guys at the bar signaled for another drink and he hurriedly took the order. When he returned, Clarke’s eyes had returned to their normal azure shade, though she was still smiling. “Hope you don’t mind I brought some friends,” she said.

“The more the merrier.”

“I thought they’d like it. Guess we picked a good night.” She nodded at the band. “You were right. They’re great.” Her grin widened. “Any of those guitars yours?”

He smiled in surprise. “Nah, he was nice enough to let that one rest tonight.”

He filled a tall glass to the brim with her favorite stout and slid it over. She lingered an extra moment. “You should come say hi when you’re done.”

“It’ll be at least another hour.”

“I know.” Clarke stretched across the counter to kiss him again, this time a deliberate and lingering smack on the cheek, before heading back.

He didn’t think anything of it, until at one point Octavia caught his eyes and pointed to her own cheek, giving him a thumbs up. He touched the spot and grinned when his fingers came away stained in red. Spotting Clarke, he raised an eyebrow. She merely lifted one in return.

Bellamy laughed but didn’t rub off the rest of it for the remainder of his shift.

~~~~~~~

When he was finally done, he wandered over to their table, slinging an arm over the back of Clarke’s chair. She smiled up at him, quickly introducing Lincoln’s friend Nyko, a fellow pre-med student, and Jasper’s girlfriend Maya, who was studying sociology.

Octavia wasted no time. “Nice lipstick, big brother. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” he said easily. He poked Clarke in the side just to see her smile. “What’s this one called again?”

She tilted her head in thought, and he dragged his eyes from the beautifully exposed column of her neck before he did something stupid. With a small hum, she finally said, “Cherry something, I think.”

“Works for me."

Raven was looking between the two of them with nothing short of awe. “I cannot believe it took you idiots _this long_.”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Clarke shot back, and he grinned in satisfaction when her friend opened and closed her mouth silently.

Miller chose that moment to pop over. “Hey, it’s the girlfriend!”

Bellamy let out a rueful chuckle, dropping his head to Clarke’s shoulder. Everyone was out to get them, it seemed. She grinned and gave a small wave. Her blush was back with a vengeance as the girls all too happily recounted how they’d found out about the relationship. Miller and his big mouth mentioned he’d also seen one of the cute pictures on Octavia’s phone, and it was at that point that Bellamy hurriedly shoved him towards the next table that needed service. 

Clarke looked back up at him expectantly. “Shots. Lots of them.”

“Next round’s on me,” he agreed.

He was good to his word, returning with a trayful of shots and extra drinks. An extra chair was pulled up next to Clarke, despite Raven’s multiple suggestions that Clarke just sit on his lap. As much as certain parts of him (okay, _one_ part) jumped at the idea, Bellamy politely declined. The last thing he needed was for his hard-on to get worse. 

So he just got everyone drunk instead.

And he had to admit it was a lot of fun to have them all here, even if Clarke’s hand did wander dangerously high up his thigh and his fingers dipped below the waistband of her shorts once or twice. The smell of lavender - from her shampoo, he’d finally learned - was driving him insane. By the way she kept squirming in her seat and dragging her eyes away every time he looked over (which was a lot, come on), he knew she wasn’t doing much better.

By the time the band shut down for the night, it was near time to close up. Everyone was still laughing and swaying, and Bellamy was grateful for Lincoln and Nyko, who appeared to be much better at holding their liquor than the others. Or perhaps more discreet. Whatever the case, they assured him they’d all get home safe. Bellamy walked them to the curb anyways, only satisfied when he saw everyone pile into a cab.

He was distinctly aware that Clarke was not among the group.

When he returned inside, Miller was ushering out the last of the customers. “Your turn to close up,” his friend called. Bellamy frowned.

“Says who?” He asked, but Miller was already out the door.

“Says me.” 

Bellamy turned to see Clarke perched on the counter with a small grin. She held up a set of keys and shook them pointedly. His mouth went dry.

Suddenly it was all he could do to lock the doors, throwing the latch shut and dimming the lights before his feet carried him back to her. His arms caged her in place as he leaned in to capture her mouth in a hungry kiss. For a few seconds they were a mess of tongue and teeth, consumed by their eagerness. Then Clarke sighed and dropped the keys with a clatter, her hands crawling under his shirt while she angled her head so that their mouths slid together in rhythm. The rake of her nails along his neck made him groan. Bellamy pressed closer between her knees until her legs locked around him. 

His hips rocked forward, pulling a long moan from her mouth. He broke away to trail kisses down her neck, stopping to suck hard at her pulse point. One of her hands carded through his hair as she arched to give him more room.

“Was this your plan all along?” Bellamy murmured, nipping gently. “Drive me crazy all night until I broke?”

“Not- not so well thought out,” she panted, “but it seemed to work.” He chuckled against her skin, nudging further along her shoulder when she said, “Hope I didn’t ruin your tips with all the lipstick.”

Clarke’s quiet tone made him raise his head to meet her gaze. “I’ll live. Lipstick or not, they weren’t getting anything but drinks out of me,” he promised.

“Good,” she said fiercely. “Because you’re all mine.” 

The words had more effect on him than any alcohol he’d consumed that night. He kissed the corner of her mouth with a smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I am.”

She smiled widely as their lips met again in a decidedly softer kiss, full of wordless thoughts that neither was quite able to voice just yet. It didn't matter, though. That was all they needed at the moment. 

When his mouth finally left hers, Bellamy moved back down her neck, gently applying his teeth to her skin before soothing it with his tongue. Hell if he was about to let her get away with being the only one doing the marking tonight. If he had it his way, he'd make sure they both remembered this for a long time. His fingers skimmed up and down her bare thighs, applying more pressure each time but never quite reaching her center. Clarke whimpered and pressed against him, tugging his head up for another heated kiss.

He groaned. Neither of them were going to last much longer at this rate. “Hang on,” he muttered, and braced his hands under her legs. Clarke squeaked and linked her arms around his neck as he carried her to the back room. Her mouth busied itself under his ear down to his collarbone, nearly making him walk into a wall more than once.

Finally he settled her on the small counter in the back. The cool steel made her jump and grin sheepishly. “Why here?” 

“Can’t be walking around among customers with a permanent hard-on. At least I’m only back here now and then.” He swallowed her laugh with a kiss, fingering the edges of her t-shirt. _His_ shirt. “So unfair,” he murmured. “Was this on purpose too?”

“Maybe.” Clarke smiled and raised her hands, letting him slip it off. Her bra was jet black and trimmed in lace, and the thought of her wearing this under his shirt all night made him crazy all over again. He dropped kisses to the swell of each breast before moving swiftly down her stomach, only pausing to unbutton those tiny shorts and pull them off her.

Her panties were blue, light enough that the dark spot in the center was clearly visible. Bellamy ran his teeth over it, grinning when her hips jerked helplessly. He hooked a finger into the material and dragged it off before dropping to his knees. When he glanced up, Clarke had one hand braced on the shelf behind her and the other on the counter as she watched him from under heavy-lidded eyes. She trembled as he pushed her thighs wide apart, hands digging into her milky skin. 

His eyes nearly rolled back at the sight of her wet and aching - _for him._ “Is this what you were thinking about all night, princess?” 

“Bell,” she breathed, and need shot straight to his cock. He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her inner thigh before turning inwards. A strangled gasp left her mouth at the first touch of his tongue to her pink folds. Desperate, her hips canted up. He nuzzled closer, laying broad strokes along her slit, moaning appreciatively at every small noise that she couldn’t contain. The rake of her nails over his scalp only made him more greedy in return until her hands twisted painfully into his hair.

“Bellamy, please,” Clarke’s voice was just shy of a sob. “I need you.”

He sucked one last time at her clit before allowing her to draw him up. Her hands scrambled to remove his shirt, her mouth busily tracing the lines of his muscles even as she moved to his belt next. Bellamy wound his hands into her hair and kissed her again, biting her swollen bottom lip when her hand wrapped around his cock. Some part of his brain that hadn’t completely lost it reminded him to grab the condom out of his pocket before she shoved his jeans down. Not surprisingly, Clarke was less than helpful as he tried to get the damn thing out, her hand pumping along his length without mercy. 

"Jesus _fuck,_ Clarke, are you _trying_ to end this faster?" He ground out.

Her merry laugh tinkled in the air. "Come on, Blake. Multi-task," she whispered hotly, then bit down on his earlobe.

His head dropped to her shoulder with a muffled grunt, but finally he got the condom out and on. Then he cupped his hands around her ass and pulled her to the edge of the counter, thrusting up and inside of her at once. Clarke cried out wordlessly. Bellamy’s eyes nearly rolled back at the feeling of her slick heat surrounding his cock. “Fuck,” he swore, burying his face into her neck.

Clarke's hands swarmed his shoulders and back, unable to pick one spot to clutch at as he drew out slowly. “Bell, god, _ahh-_ ” her soft mewl sounded against his ear as he pushed in swiftly. It was messy and frantic, his hips crashing into hers over and over to the time of her moans. Her nails made impressions in the skin of his shoulder as her breath hitched, her cries rising an octave as she began to tip over the edge. He drove into her, abandoning the last of his control.

“Come,” he demanded. “Come for me, princess.”

She fell apart with a wail that might have been his name, her walls clenching tightly around him as she shuddered in his arms. Bellamy pressed his mouth to hers in a desperate kiss, spending himself with a few hard thrusts as she continued to squeeze him for all he was worth. They stayed locked together, both limp and sweaty, and over the pounding of his heart he registered how Clarke’s pulse was hammering under his ear. 

Breathing heavily, she looped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his shoulder. “Well that was new,” she said, and damn if _every single part of him_ didn't feel smug at the satisfaction in her voice.

Bellamy allowed himself a smirk as he traced lazy circles on her back. “You know, I might end up having a hard-on no matter where I go in this place,” he murmured, and she laughed, giddy and bright.

Her arms curled around his neck when she finally looked up. “You make me crazy,” she admitted.

He kissed her long and hard. “Right back at you.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three little words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading/commenting so far!! this chapter begins a section I'm super excited about, so I hope you enjoy! :))

_“The Ark?”_ Raven’s delighted cackle echoed throughout the lab. “Oh my god, Clarke, you’re my hero. Seriously, dinner is on me tonight.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I’ll let Bellamy take care of _dessert-”_

She shrieked and ducked as Clarke chucked one of her flats across the room. Her aim was wide, but she smacked Raven’s shoulder anyways as she hopped over to retrieve it. Raven laughed, standing up tentatively only when she was sure the shoe wasn’t heading in her direction once more. “I’m not kidding about dinner. God, I feel like a proud mama bear. I never thought I’d see the day when you finally jumped his bones, let alone in public.”

Slipping her shoe on, Clarke perched atop the table with a sigh. “You and me both. Raven, I’m so in over my head… I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t told him yet,” her friend replied. She shook her head despairingly. 

“Every time I think maybe I can get the words out, it’s like the universe is like _wait, stop!_ ” She threw up her hands. “Someone interrupts, or he kisses me, or it’s just a nice moment and I don’t want to ruin it-”

“Clarke,” Raven interrupted her rambling. “You’re being a little chickenshit. Just nut up and do it.”

“You do it,” she muttered petulantly. _Real mature, Griffin._

“Don’t tempt me woman,” Raven warned, wagging a finger. “You know I’ll pick up that phone in a heartbeat and-” She broke off with a smirk when Clarke grabbed her hands.

“This isn’t fair,” she complained. “Why is this a big deal? It should be flattering to hear _I love you_ , not terrifying. And I don’t want him to think he has to say it back just because I said it, you know? Nothing’s worse than that. But it just- he just- I feel like I need him to know.”

She sighed and dropped her face into her hands until she felt a tug at her wrists. “Come on,” Raven said decisively. 

“Where are we going?”

“To get pizza and wings and beer until you finally nut up or shut up.”

“You’ve watched Zombieland too many times,” Clarke grumbled, but let herself be dragged along anyways.

~~~~~~~~~

Clarke was still beyond nervous as she sat on Bellamy’s couch. She’d been fidgety all evening, staring off into space and not hearing his questions until he nudged her and repeated himself, all the while looking at her in open concern. And even then, the most she managed in answer was a distracted murmur or head shake, maybe a sentence - two, if she was really feeling it.

It was the same pattern they’d been in for a couple days now. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but she was so overwhelmed by her thoughts that she couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. Being around Bellamy only intensified things, to the point that she had literally stopped in the kitchen for a full three minutes just to watch him _stir a pot of sauce_ like the useless idiot she was. She figured Bellamy had chalked it up to something about classes or work, or just a bad day in general. He was understanding like that, and good enough not to pry. At least at first - though now that the dry spell had extended, she wasn't sure _what_ he was thinking.

She knew she owed him honesty, first and foremost. But because she was too busy trying to sort through her jumbled thoughts alone, she’d clammed up on instinct, withdrawn into her complicated head even though he was sitting right next to her.

So it wasn’t really surprising that she didn’t notice the familiar determined look creeping over Bellamy’s face as they finished their meal in silence. If she had, she might have realized her lack of speech had hit a nerve. But she didn’t. Once he’d loaded the dishwasher, he strode over to where she’d just stood up from the couch. She was just noting the gleam in his eyes when he suddenly leaned down.

And promptly tossed her over his shoulder.

“Bellamy!” She shrieked and began to pummel away at his back, irritated when her fists ended up hurting. “Are you a fucking caveman? What are you-? Put me _down!_ ”

Without answering, Bellamy strode to his room. Ignoring her stream of protests, he laid her down on the bed - still gentle, despite everything - before flattening himself atop her and crushing their mouths together mid-sentence.

Despite her surprise, Clarke recovered quickly enough to respond, her tongue eagerly meeting his. _This,_ she knew how to deal with, or so she thought. It shocked her out of her own head, made her stop thinking and just _feel._ She hooked a leg around his waist, rocking upwards. Bellamy simply thrusted back - with his hips and his tongue. Her answering moan made him smirk into her mouth. The kiss was rough and demanding, and he sucked on her bottom lip until it was swollen well and good.

When Bellamy finally pulled back, he braced his elbows on the mattress on either side of her head. Clarke could only imagine the sight she made, her hair fanned out on the pillow, face flushed and chest heaving. 

She looked up at him in a daze. “Wh- what-” She licked her lips, trying to work moisture back into her mouth.

He leaned down again, this time keeping his touch slow and soothing, nothing more than a caress until she was trembling. “Bellamy,” she sighed when they parted. He lifted a finger to trace her cheek.

“You’re keeping something from me,” he said, and her eyes widened. _Shit shit shit--_ “You’ve been shutting me out for three days now, giving me bullshit excuses and barely listening to a thing I say. That’s not how this works, Clarke.” A little bit of hurt crept through his voice. “You and me, we’re better than that.”

 _God. I’m such an idiot._ She suddenly felt awful.

Clarke leaned up and wrapped her arms around Bellamy in silent apology, feeling him stiffen in surprise. She figured he’d been expecting a snappy retort or something of that nature, so he had no idea what to make of this. But still she held him close, nuzzling her nose against his cheek until he finally relaxed and rolled to his side, bringing her with him. 

“I’m sorry, Bell,” she whispered, and felt him stroke her back in response.

After a long moment, Clarke sat up with a small sigh. Linking her fingers with his, she pulled Bellamy to sit as well, keeping his hand in her lap as she drew absent patterns along his wrist. “You’re right,” she said softly. “That wasn’t fair of me to leave you in the dark like that. It wasn’t intentional, I swear. I just get so lost in my own head sometimes.” 

“So I’ve learned.” Bellamy nudged her gently, and she looked up, finding only open curiosity and kindness in his eyes. _Now or never._

She released a shaky breath and steeled herself. “I’ve been trying to figure out when to tell you this, because I didn’t want it to come out wrong or at a bad time or to ruin anything… anyways. It’s nothing bad,” she reassured quickly. “Well. I mean, _I_ don’t think it is, at least, maybe you won't agree, I don't know, god I hope you agree-”

“Clarke-” 

“I love you.” 

She blurted it out with zero finesse, her voice cracking on the last word. 

Bellamy stared down at her, the emotions flashing across his face too quickly for her to count. She registered a healthy amount of shock, but when an equal amount of joy lit up his eyes, she took that as a good sign. She swallowed and gripped his fingers. 

“I love you,” she repeated, and this time she was proud to her hear voice was steady with quiet conviction. “You don’t have to say it back, you don’t have to say _anything,_ okay? I just needed you to know. I didn’t want to you to feel pressured, or scare you off or something, but I just…” she trailed off with a shy smile and shrugged. “I love you, Bellamy.”

God, it felt so good to say it out loud, to his face. It was getting easier each time, too.

“Really?” He asked, a cheeky grin splitting his face. Her worries began to melt away, seeming almost foolish in the wake of the sheer happiness currently overtaking his features.

“Afraid so,” she said meekly.

Laughing, Bellamy framed her face between his hands. “Well, this is _excellent_ news,” he murmured, and proceeded to pepper her face with kisses everywhere he could reach, until she began to giggle in relief too, reaching out to pull his mouth to hers. They kissed long and hard, and she poured everything she had into it, feeling him respond in kind. She knew then that he wasn’t able to say the words right away, but he was making damn sure she felt it otherwise.

When they parted, he sighed happily and grabbed her in a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. If a tear or two leaked out onto her skin, Clarke didn’t comment, only stroked her fingers through his hair and held him just as fiercely. 

Eventually she whispered, “Don’t go running for the hills, but there’s one other thing.”

Bellamy laughed again and drew back, planting another long, sweet kiss on her lips before she could continue. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, and she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the rest of her concern dissipate.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask, but for awhile I was sort of arguing with myself if I really should. I…” She faltered, and he squeezed her fingers with a reassuring nod. “I know it’s a little last-minute, but, uh… What are you doing over the break?” 

He blinked at the abrupt change in direction. His brows drew together slowly. “I don’t really know. I guess I figured I’d just stay here and work, like usual.”

She nodded quickly; she’d expected as much. “Right. Well. I was wondering, if, maybe, and you don’t have to, I just thought, if you want-”

“Spit it out, Clarke.”

_“Doyouwanttogohomewithme?”_

Bellamy stared down at her quickly reddening face. “Come again?”

Clarke put her head in her hands with a muffled groan. Her inability to get this stuff out was becoming embarrassing. And she was pretty sure Bellamy _had_ heard her correctly the first time, but just wanted to hear it again, properly. Possibly for his own sanity.

Sensing his impending smirk, her hand shot out to blindly hit whatever part of him she could reach. “Stop laughing at me,” she muttered.

“I’m not laughing.” _He was totally laughing._

“Hmmpfh."

Now Bellamy reached out, tugging her close until she was cradled in his lap. She hid her face against his shirt. “Princess,” his voice was soft as he leaned down to push back the curtain of hair surrounding her flushed face. “Hey, come on. Talk to me.”

Clarke heaved a breath and tentatively lifted her eyes to his. Setting her jaw, she asked again, “Do you want to come home with me?” Before he could even answer, she rushed on. “Just for a few days, three, maybe four at most. I still have shifts at the hospital, and mom will be working most of the time. I just… I’d like you to meet her, and Wells, if we can. Maybe just show you around a bit. That’s all. Oh, and I usually take a bus, it’s a little over three hours one way, but you don’t have to worry about the tickets, I can sort all that out, though if you have to work it’s okay-”

Bellamy kissed her soundly, not bothering to hide his smile. Which, yeah, made the kiss a little more difficult, but god, it was so worth it if it meant what she hoped it meant. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“All you had to do was ask."

She laughed in delight and slight awe at the wonderful boy in front of her and flung her arms around him, whispering _thank you_ over and over until he shushed her with another round of kisses that stopped all conversation for a while.

~~~~~~~~~

The next night, Bellamy was thankful to find The Ark pretty quiet when he took over from Miller. After the previous day, he just wanted to work alone to tangle out his thoughts. A strange, dizzying feeling had swept through his body ever since Clarke had said those three little words, and he’d let himself be taken by it, ridiculously elated every time he relived the moment in his head. He made it through the next few hours in somewhat of a daze, much like he had spent the entire day - not really processing what happened, just constantly seeing Clarke's shy smile in his mind, hearing her soft, certain voice in his ear. _I love you, Bellamy._

At the end of his shift, he was cleaning up behind the empty bar when Octavia strolled in. She perched on a stool with her usual grin. “Hey big brother.”

He threw the towel aside gratefully, twisting off the cap of a beer for her. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

“Sure.” She took a long sip, then propped her chin on her hands. “So what’s with all the secrecy and the _don’t tell the others?_ ”

“I just needed to talk to you. Alone.” He took a deep breath. “Clarke told me she loved me.”

Octavia’s eyes widened and she squealed, pushing the drink aside and reaching across the counter to grab him in a giant hug. “Oof, ow!” Bellamy winced as the counter dug into his hip. Meanwhile, his face was being nearly smothered by her shoulder. “O, let me breathe.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she chirped. “It was still a full thirty seconds before her arms loosened, and then he pulled back with a relieved gulp of air. Her eyes were shining. “Bellamy, I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, thanks. I just…” He threw his hands up with a frustrated grunt before pressing his forehead into the counter.

“What?” She shook him repeatedly when he wouldn’t look up. “Bell, what is it?”

“I couldn’t say it back,” he moaned. “She was sitting right in front of me, being all perfect and _Clarke_ , and the words were _right there_ , and I couldn’t fucking say it back.” Bellamy sighed. “I’m such a moron.”

Octavia’s laughter rang out loudly in the empty bar. Needless to say, that was not the reaction he had expected. Lifting his head, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Thanks for the support, O.”

She held up a hand, still chuckling. “I’m sorry. Really. But you two are such idiots that I can’t help it.” Reaching out, she squeezed his shoulder. “Bell, just because you can’t say it yet doesn’t mean you don’t feel it. It’s written all over your face whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, but-”

Her hand shifted to cover his mouth. “Hold on. I know we don’t normally talk about this, but I’m going to make an exception right now, so listen close.” Octavia’s voice was so unusually quiet that he could only nod when she took her hand away. 

There was empathy in her eyes when she looked up. “When Lincoln told me he loved me, I couldn’t say it back for nearly two months,” she admitted. “I actually freaked out a little at first, tried to back out because I thought we hadn’t known each other for long enough for that.” Octavia smiled ruefully. “But it was Clarke who told me to stop being stupid, that I was happier than she’d ever seen, and that if I didn’t hold on to someone simply because he said _I love you_ sooner than I was ready for, I might come to regret it.”

"There's no way I'm backing out-" he began heatedly, but Octavia's eyes flashed in irritation as she cut him off.

 _"Duh,_ you moron. I know that," she snapped. "I'm trying to make a point here?" When he remained silent, she continued more softly. "Look. Lincoln said he only told me because, as he put it, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. I see how Clarke is around you, Bell. It’s the same way. She just needed you to know. She's not asking for anything more.”

Bellamy let out a long breath and closed his eyes for a moment, letting her words sink in. This was why he’d asked his sister to come. She knew exactly what he needed to hear in this moment. He rounded the counter and lifted her in as giant a hug as he could manage. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She clutched him tightly, smiling. “You’re welcome.” When he finally drew back, she hung onto his hand a moment longer. “Bellamy… I’m glad you let her in. About mom, and everything.”

It took him a second. Then he smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”

Octavia patted his cheek gently. “You’ll be fine, silly. So what’s the other thing?” At his blank look, she clarified, “On the phone, you said you had two important things to tell me.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Bellamy took a seat next to her, haphazardly raking a hand through his hair. “Well... I think I’m going to meet Clarke’s mother over the break. Possibly her best friend from high school too.”

Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously. She asked me to come home with her for a few days.”

“Holy shit. You said yes, right?” Octavia’s glare turned murderous. “ _Please_ tell me you said yes, Bell, or I swear to god I’ll-”

“Of course I did!” He scowled. “How else do you expect me to meet her mom?”

Octavia breathed a sigh of relief. “Right. Thank god. Okay. We need to get you some more clothes. And you’ll have to be nice. Really nice.”

“I can be nice,” he grumbled, and his sister gave him a look.

“Nice to adults,” she amended with a grin, and he smiled sheepishly. “When did she ask you?”

“A few minutes after she said she loved me.” Every time he said the words, they sounded better and better. She loved him. _Clarke Griffin_ loved him. His eyes drifted shut for a few moments, letting the words slip under his skin and run through his body until his heart seemed to beat in time to them. 

When he recovered, Octavia was watching him knowingly. “Feels pretty damn good, doesn’t it?” She asked softly.

“Unbelievable,” he answered, and she beamed. 

~~~~~~~~~

Clarke rolled over in bed, smashing her face into the pillows with a grunt after swatting at her alarm clock. _Five more minutes._ Just as she was sinking into blissful sleep again, her bedroom door eased open. 

Without opening her eyes, she said, “I’m not even going to ask how you woke up before me, but-” She yelped in protest when the covers were thrown back. Thankfully it was only momentary, because then Octavia crawled in beside her and pulled the comforter back up over her bare legs. “Hey,” she smiled sleepily and stretched. “What’s up, O?”

“Thank you for telling him,” Octavia whispered, and suddenly she was a hell of a lot more awake. 

“Wh- how…” She blinked, retracing the previous night. She’d fallen asleep atop her books after waiting up for her roommate, who never showed. “Is that why you got back so late yesterday?”

Her friend nodded. “I went to see him at The Ark, just to say hi, and he mentioned it. I just- I’m so happy, Clarke.” Octavia hugged her tightly. “For both of you.”

“I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” she replied with a sigh, resting her head on Octavia’s shoulder for a moment. “O, was he-? He… he seemed okay, right? I mean he’s not freaking out or-”

“He’s ecstatic,” Octavia pulled back with a wide grin, making her smile hopefully as well. “Over the moon. Seriously, Clarke. I know he didn’t say it back, but-”

“I don’t care about that,” she interrupted. “I mean, I do, duh, but that wasn’t the point. I just needed him to know. I just…” she sighed and shrugged helplessly. “I love him so much, Octavia.”

“I know you do. And I promise you, he knows it too.”

Clarke nodded. “So I’m guessing he also told you about visiting my mom over break?”

“Yep. Don’t worry, I told him to be on his best behavior. And I’m going to take him shopping,” Octavia declared. “At least for pants. He cannot wear jeans the entire time. I won’t have it.”

Clarke laughed and hugged her again. “I don’t give a shit what he wears, as long as he’s there.”

“Believe you me,” Octavia promised, “he’s not going anywhere.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip home begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the great feedback on the last chapter! So glad you liked it, and I really hope you enjoy this update too! :)

Finals came and went with the usual barrage of studying, papers, and endless nights filled with coffee and snacks. More often than not, Bellamy found himself in his room, sprawled on the floor surrounded by papers while Clarke took up a similar position on his bed. Now and then she’d reach a hand into the large box of Honey Nut Cheerios that had taken up residence on his bedside table.

There were two more boxes stashed away in his cupboard - a fact she was unaware of until she finished the contents of the first late one night and frowned to herself. He had been maybe a little too excited to reveal the hidden boxes. Clarke’s bright exclamation was well worth the longass grocery line he’d waited in just to purchase them. 

But besides that, it was too exhausting to do much else but sleep, eat, study - rinse and repeat - for several days.

The night after his last final was also the night before they were leaving for break. Their bus was early, though not freakishly so, thankfully. Clarke had thought ahead enough to make sure of that. Not that he expected any less. His packing was only interrupted by a soft knock on his door, which swung open to reveal the girl in question, duffel bag on her shoulder and hands twisted in front of her.

“Hey you,” Bellamy pulled Clarke into his arms, planting a long kiss on her lips until she sighed and linked her fingers behind his neck.

“Hi. How’d your European history final go?”

“It’s over,” he answered, kicking the door shut as she dropped her duffel by the couch. “How was physio?”

She made a face. “Same. I’m so ready for this break.” He hummed in agreement, trailing small wet kisses along her jaw until she squirmed and laughed, shoving him away. “Don’t you have packing to do, mister?”

He gave a long-suffering sigh as she pushed him towards his room. Clarke plopped down on his bed while he dove back into his closet again, trying to figure out where Octavia had put those two pairs of nice pants she’d bought him a few days back. ( _“You’re meeting her mom, Bell, don’t you dare wear jeans to dinner or so help me god--”_ )

When he emerged again, having found the pants, Clarke was back to absently biting her lip and picking at her nails. He tossed the clothes aside and pulled her to her feet, stuffing a large blue towel into her hands.

“You need to relax,” he said firmly. “Go take a bath or something. Stop thinking so much.”

She stuck out her tongue but shuffled towards the bathroom anyways. Bellamy watched her for an extra moment, grinning to himself. It took him only few more minutes to shove the rest of his clothes into his own duffel, adding in the small bag of toiletries on top. At the last minute he threw in a well-worn book as well, just in case.

By now the water was running, though it sounded like she’d turned on the shower instead. As he turned to double-check he wasn’t forgetting anything, he was brought to a standstill by the sight of Clarke in the doorway. She was wrapped in nothing but the towel, her hair streaming loosely over her shoulders.

“Bell, do you need-”

She stopped mid-sentence as he gaped rather stupidly. A blush spread across her face and down her chest and she smiled. At a loss for words, he simply dropped everything and gathered her into his arms, fitting his mouth to hers. His fingers began a light trail up her bare thigh, edging under the towel. With a small moan against his lips, Clarke twisted a hand into his shirt and began walking backwards, dragging him with her. (Though, he supposed it couldn’t be called dragging if he wasn’t resisting.) The remainder of the evening was spent laughing and teasing under the hot spray, just the two of them in their small bubble unconcerned with anything but each other.

All Bellamy could think that night as they fell asleep was, _I’m so in love with this girl._

~~~~~~

By 10a.m. the next day, they were seated on the bus that would take them to Clarke’s hometown. Clarke was in the window seat, Bellamy right next to her, stretching a leg into the aisle once the other passengers had filled the bus. Both had agreed coffee was too messy for the trip, so they’d gotten to the cafe early and bought extra bagels from the coffeeshop for the ride. When Clarke wasn’t looking, he’d also bagged a couple of her favorite chocolate croissants.

Now her head drooped to his shoulder as she got comfy. Bellamy leaned back to lift the armrest out of the way, grinning when she immediately snuggled close. He dropped a kiss to her hair and put in one of his earbuds. Before he could find the other, Clarke had snagged it and tucked it into her own ear, peeking up at him with a smile. He hit play, and for the next hour or so the music overtook them both.

But when Bellamy looked down and saw her nagging her bottom lip to shreds again, he took the earphones out and brought his mouth to her ear. “If you keep biting your lip like that I’m going to find a reason to bite you in other places,” he whispered.

Clarke elbowed him in a hurry, her tiny squeak of a laugh muffled into his chest. He grinned and brushed her hair back gently. After a moment, her quiet request reached his ears. “Distract me?”

He thought for a moment, then brightened and lifted her face up. “Octavia and I used to play this game when we were little and had nothing else to do. It’s called Truth.” She tilted her head in question. “We each get to ask a question, it can be simple or not, but the other person has to answer honestly. If you don’t want to answer, you lose. The game keeps going until one person decides to pass.”

“How do I know you’re answering truthfully?”

Bellamy tapped her nose. “Have a little faith in me, princess.”

“Okay.” Clarke smiled. “You first.”

“What’s your favorite memory?”

Her eyebrows lifted at how fast he came up with the question, but he only shrugged. She got that beloved little crease on her forehead as she scrunched her face, thinking. “There was this one day we went to the zoo,” she began, tracing absent circles on his arm. “It was all three of us; mom, dad and me. It was one of the few days mom had the day off and we actually did something other than lounge at home. Anyways, we spent the whole day there. My dad put me up on his shoulders so I could see the elephants and zebras… and the dolphins. God, I stayed at that tank forever. I loved them so much, I wanted to be one,” Clarke laughed a little, wistful. “Mom was actually relaxed for once, and dad kept making her laugh. It was the best.”

Bellamy smiled and wrapped his arm around her, letting her stay in the memory as long as she wanted to. A few minutes later, she gave a little, happy sigh. “Thanks. I didn’t know I still remembered that.”

He nodded. “Your turn.”

“Hmm.” She only took a second. “When did you first know you liked me? As in, more than your sister’s friend.”

It was his turn to pause as he traced backwards. “I think… well, it’s weird. There wasn’t so much a specific point as a gradual realization. Like, when we started hanging out a lot after O got the flu and I realized there was a lot I liked about you. And then by the time we stayed up to watch Cabin in the Woods, I was just having fun. And I wanted to know… _everything_ about you.” She smiled at that. “But I think the first night when you couldn’t sleep and came outside, and we were watching Peg Bundy…”

“The popcorn and candy,” she remembered, and he nodded.

“You were sitting next to me on the couch, and as if that wasn’t distracting enough, you fell asleep in my lap. When I woke up you were still there, and I just had this urge to hold you, keep you safe, or something.” He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed with himself. “Anyways, that was kind of how I knew.”

Clarke grinned and leaned up to peck him softly on the lips. He wasted no time with his next question. “Were you always planning to jump me at the bar?”

The redness enveloped her skin in seconds, as he’d known it would, and he laughed. She stuck her tongue out but answered anyways. “Not intentionally. As in, I wasn’t thinking about it before I left the house. The only reason I kept your shirt on is because it’s comfy. And I kind of liked knowing it was yours,” she admitted. “But after I walked in… I don’t know. Something kind of just set me off.” Her eyes narrowed. “All those flirty patrons didn’t really help.”

“Trust me, I’m not complaining,” Bellamy chuckled.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Okay Romeo, what about you?” Her warm breath floated along his ear. “Name one public place you want to christen.”

 _Jesus._ He closed his eyes, willing himself to think about something, _anything,_ that would stop the current excitement in his lower half. Clarke giggled, pleased by the reaction. A minute later he felt something settle over his legs, and he looked down to see a plaid blanket covering them both. 

“Thanks,” he managed. “Alright. Um. One place. Beach. And that’s all you get unless you want me to make an example of it right here,” he added pointedly.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “Weellll, I think I know a place nearby…”

 _Fuck, I love you._ “Claaaaarke,” he whined.

With a small laugh, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Go ahead, ask.”

He was just _dying_ to ask her the same question, but it occurred to him that might only make his current situation worse. So he tabled it for later. “What’s one thing you want to draw or paint, but haven’t yet?”

“You.” The answer flew out of her mouth just as he finished the question. She looked just as surprised as he felt, though when her surprise turned to shyness all he could do was kiss her for a long minute.

When they parted, Bellamy cradled her cheek. It was an intensely private thing she’d just let slip, and he was frankly over the moon about it. He wasn’t going to push her for more. “So, you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” He teased. 

Clarke grinned at the movie reference. “You’re not pretty enough to be a French girl,” she informed him primly.

He put a hand over his heart, mock wounded. “Moi? I’ll have you know I would make an exceptional French girl,” he said, and she dissolved into giggles.

“Is that so?” She asked between breaths. “What would your name be?”

"I don't need one. Bellamy is classy enough,” he decided, prompting another peal of laughter from Clarke. He loved it when she got like this, all breathless and flushed and glowing. “What?” he protested, grinning. "Try it, come on. Say it with me all fancy. Bell-AH-meeee.”

Clarke was still laughing when she pulled his mouth to hers. “ _Fine,_ you can be my classy French girl,” she murmured, and Bellamy smiled into the kiss. Afterwards, she tapped her chin in thought. “My turn. Have you ever broken any bones?”

“Where do I begin?” He chuckled. “Let’s see… broke my collarbone in high school.” Clarke hissed in sympathy, then surprised him by pressing her lips to the spot. Feeling cheeky, he added, “Fractured some ribs during my short stint on the football team.” She lifted an eyebrow but kissed his chest through the material of his shirt. Bellamy gathered her close. “In middle school,” he whispered, “I got into a fight with this idiot named Allen. He gave me a black eye.” 

“Let me guess. You didn’t start it, but you finished it,” she said wryly. At his grin, she leaned up, pecking the corner of each eye. 

“I’m pretty sure I busted my lip too,” he said plaintively. Clarke giggled and kissed him soundly, and then there was no talking for several minutes. 

They settled into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the trip, until the fields and trees began to clear with the occasional house or farm. Eventually smaller restaurants and gas stations began to pop up, and soon the bus was rolling through the streets of town. Clarke sat up excitedly, pointing out some of the places from memory.

“There’s the community theater where I met Wells. And just over that bridge, there’s the elementary school. There’s only one.” Bellamy returned her grin. “Oh, and look, see that red roof? That’s Pete’s Diner. We’ll go there one morning. They make the best breakfast in town. And-”

Clarke stopped abruptly, the smile vanishing.

Bellamy leaned forward. “What? What happened?”

The bus was paused at a stoplight as Clarke stared out the window, speechless. Bellamy followed her gaze to the porch of a small restaurant, where a couple had just stepped outside. They were middle-aged, both brunette. The woman was laughing at something the man said before he hooked an arm around her waist and kissed her.

Something between a gasp and a sob escaped Clarke, and he grabbed her shoulder, twisting her to face him.

“Princess, what is it?”

The bus started moving again, but he barely even felt it.

“That was my mom,” she whispered.

~~~~~~

Clarke was shaking by the time they got off the bus. Bellamy kept a tight grip on her hand, trying to provide reassurance in any way he could. Though, he couldn’t deny this wasn’t exactly the best way to start their trip.

“I think we’re a half hour early,” he murmured.

“It’s fine. We can walk.”

They’d only taken a few steps when Clarke burst out, “How could she do that? It’s only been a few years since… and now she’s with some _stranger?_ ” Her duffel lurched over her shoulder as her arm flailed. 

“Clarke-”

“And how long has _that_ been going on, even? I mean, she-”

“ _Clarke,_ ” 

“-hasn’t said a word about it, after everything-”

“Clarke!” Bellamy stopped and firmly wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She resisted for a few seconds, then settled into his hold with a small sob. His hands stroked over her hair and along her back as they swayed on the spot. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “But, for what it’s worth, I think you should at least give her a chance to explain.”

When she lifted her head to protest, he put a finger to her lips. “Sometimes things aren’t always as they seem.” 

“I think that was pretty damn clear,” she muttered.

“Even so," he insisted. "Don’t blow up before you’ve got all the facts.” _We should both know better by now._

She nodded, her chin trembling, and he pulled her back into the embrace for a moment longer. The rest of their walk was spent in silence, though that evaporated in all of two seconds as soon as her mom came into view across the street. They came to a stop on the sidewalk, Clarke staring in astonishment at her mother and the man beside her who currently held her hand.

Her mom was looking back with similar apprehension, though Bellamy didn’t miss the quick glance she gave him as well. 

“No,” Clarke was shaking her head frantically, her eyes bright with tears again. “No," she repeated again, almost to herself. "This is _not_ happening. I can’t… _No._ ”

She yanked him in the opposite direction, not stopping even when her mom called out behind her. After a few seconds of hurriedly trying to keep up, Bellamy decided enough was enough. Stubbornly, he stopped and dug his heels in, ignoring the glare Clarke sent his way when she was forced to halt as well. 

He gripped her hand a little harder. “You can’t run from this,” he told her softly. Anger and fear mingled on her face - anger, for being left out of the loop; fear, for not knowing what to do next. There was no time to reply, though, because then her mom was in front of them. 

“Clarke,” she began, then stopped. She looked just as uncertain as her daughter did in that moment. “You’re early,” she finally said.

Bellamy winced. Wrong thing to say. Clarke’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, _I’m sorry,_ did we interrupt?” She asked sweetly. “Please, _finish,_ by all means.”

“No, that’s not what-”

“Really, it’s fine." Clarke's flinty voice overrode her mother's protests. "We can find our own way back.” Her eyes cut over to the man standing a few feet away, but she didn’t say another word. Not that she needed to. Her mom was looking helplessly between the two of them. Bellamy began to rub circles on the small of Clarke’s back, trying to offer some comfort. 

Her mother tried again. “Please, Clarke, just give me a moment to catch up. I really wanted you to meet Marcus, but not like this, I swear.”

“So it didn’t occur to you that when I said ‘I’m bringing someone home for the break’ that maybe you also had some news to share?” Clarke’s chin quivered. “You’re always telling me not to keep secrets, to let you in, and then I come here and find _this?_ ” 

Her voice had risen shrilly by the time she was done. 

Looking around, Bellamy noticed a few others watching - some more furtively than others. He squeezed her shoulder. “Clarke, maybe we should do this inside?” At his pointed glance, she took a deep breath and whirled away, stomping the rest of the distance to her house.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. So much for not blowing up.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 of the trip home, continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the awesome feedback on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy! :)

Clarke paced back and forth in the small kitchen, her fingers repeatedly curling and flexing by her sides. Bellamy stood in the entrance with his arms folded. His face was unreadable. Faintly, her mother’s voice sounded from where the front door had crept ajar down the hall. She and… _Marcus_ were on the front porch. Though she was keeping her voice hushed, there was no mistaking the apologetic tone. But Clarke refused to feel bad for her actions. The secrecy of the whole thing had hit her hard. She wouldn't apologize for simply reacting after being kept in the dark for so long.

Furtively, she chanced another look at Bellamy. He still didn’t appear to be judging her, that she could tell. But he also wasn’t about to move. He refused to let her run, knowing that was all she could think about doing at the moment. She wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or irritated with him. When the tears rose, she bit down on her lip hard and long until they subsided once more.

The house door slammed shut abruptly. They both jumped. Clarke was suddenly nauseated. Now Bellamy did step forward, wrapping her in a tight hug that was all too brief. “Second chances, princess,” he whispered softly, and then he was gone, disappearing up the stairs to give them some privacy. 

Just a minute later, her mom was standing where he’d been. Her expression was shifting between uncertainty and anger, mirroring Clarke’s own mixed emotions. Then she all but threw her bag on the floor and snapped. 

“How could you be so rude?”

Oh, it was all anger now. Clarke stared in disbelief. _“Me?_ Rude?” Her voice rose. “You’re _kidding,_ right? I come home for the break to find you shacking up with some stranger-”

“He’s _not_ a stranger, and we are _not_ shacking up. If you’d give me a chance to explain-”

“So the five phone calls the past few weeks weren’t enough chances? Or maybe I should have asked when I bought the tickets, to make sure I didn’t interrupt another one of your dates?” She replied heatedly.

“Clarke, please.” Beneath her mom’s stiff posture, there was a drained nature to her voice. Slowly but surely, it nagged at the corner of Clarke’s mind that wasn’t occupied by outrage. 

“What do you want me to say?” She asked. “Did you really expect that I’d have any other reaction? I mean, how could you not tell me this, mom?” There was no point hiding the hurt in her voice. What stung the most was the fact that this had been kept from her all this time.

“I didn’t know how.” Her mother’s shoulders slumped. “Every time we spoke it was just about school or a quick hello and I didn’t know… At first I didn't even know if it was serious enough to bother with, and then when it was... I couldn't tell you over the phone, Clarke. I couldn't." She swallowed. "I was so scared if I told you, I would lose you, too,” she whispered. 

When she scrubbed hastily at a tear that slipped out, Clarke’s anger began to dissipate. “Mom, I would never… yes, I would have been upset at first, but at least I’d have time to process it instead of being blindsided like this. We’ve always been honest with each other. That shouldn’t change now.”

“I know.” Her mother sagged against the entrance, looking older than ever for a moment. “I didn’t go about it properly at all. I really am sorry, Clarke. I never meant to ruin your trip like this.”

With a tired sigh, Clarke rubbed her face. “I know it wasn't intentional. And- you didn't ruin it," she said. "I’m just… I’ll need some time to get used to it.”

“Of course.” Her mother watched her worriedly, not making any other move. They stood on opposite ends of the kitchen, unsure and still a little at odds, until Clarke finally offered a tentative olive branch. 

“You seemed happy, earlier,” she said softly. “I- I’m glad for that. Really.”

Her mother latched onto it like a lifeline. “You have to know I never intended you two to meet like that," she burst out. "We…” she paused, searching for the words. “Marcus surprised me after work. He knew I was really nervous about you coming because I wanted to tell you in person about him, and… well, you know how your bus is, you’re always late nine times out of ten and I just thought, maybe a cup of coffee couldn’t hurt.”

She shrugged helplessly. Clarke couldn’t help but notice how she'd brightened a little when she said his name. It reminded her of something Raven had once said to her, about Bellamy. _You know even when his name comes up you get that ooey-gooey look on your face, right?_ She’d brushed it off at the time, but now… who was she to say her mom didn’t deserve that too?

Finally she answered ruefully, “My bus _is_ always late. It was a valid assumption.” She lifted an eyebrow. “At least tell me he knows how you take your coffee.”

That prompted a tiny smile from her mom. “All too well.”

“Good,” she replied, idly fiddling with a handtowel. “That’s good.”

“Clarke…” she looked up again at her mom’s quiet plea. “He… I have fewer nightmares now,” her mother whispered. The rest of her anger evaporated. “You threw yourself into school, and before I knew it you’d graduated and gone off to college. I didn’t know what to do. I blamed myself. I was a _doctor_ , how could I not have seen the signs? I mean, it was _cancer..._ I should have been able to do something-”

Clarke strode over and wrapped her mother in a fierce hug, shushing the rest of her words. Her mom’s arms came up to clutch her shoulders just as tightly in silent apology. She sighed and squeezed her back, laying her head on her shoulder like she had when she was younger. Her throat was bottled up with fresh tears, but this time they weren't frustrated, simply sad for what they'd both lost. She _had_ been focused on getting so far away from anything that reminded her of her dad, she'd unintentionally left her mother behind as well.

She decided to fix that, starting now. They were and would always be family - it was the one constant in her life. They’d get through this, like they had everything else. 

“Mom,” she whispered, “in the end, as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters to me. You know that.”

It was a few minutes before her mother spoke again, and when she did it was very quiet. “I feel like I can breathe again when Marcus is around. Can you understand that?”

Clarke swallowed thickly, thinking of the boy waiting for her upstairs. “Yeah. Yeah, I can.” 

~~~~~~~

When she entered her room, Bellamy looked up tentatively from where he was examining an old crayon drawing of hers on the wall. She walked over to join him. “I did that when I was six,” she said with a small smile. “It was supposed to be a giraffe.” 

“Aahhh, a giraffe," he nodded, fighting a grin. "Of course. I totally got that.”

“Sure you did.” Clarke slid into his arms, fingers bunching in his shirt as she clung to him, burying her face into his chest. He hugged her back with the same force, a hand soothing over her hair.

“Everything okay, Clarke?” He asked softly.

“It will be.” A few moments later, she pulled back and smiled up at him, twining their fingers together. “Thanks for sticking around after all that. I- I’m sorry, for-”

He put a finger to her lips, shaking his head. “No need for apologies. There was no way even _you_ could’ve seen that one coming, princess.” Lightly, he kissed her forehead. “What’s the damage?”

She shook her head. “Not too bad. We’ll get over it soon enough. I think… I think she’s happy.” She shrugged. “As strange as it is to wrap my head around it, I can’t exactly be pissed about that, you know?” He nodded in understanding. Then she added, “I still plan to thoroughly interrogate him myself.”

Bellamy chuckled softly. “I have no doubt. I’m proud of you,” he murmured.

She sighed and leaned against him for a moment before sheepishly asking, “So… any chance you want to get coffee with two crazy ladies now?”

Bellamy grinned and leaned down to fit his mouth to hers, lingering until she was out of breath. “Absolutely.”

They headed downstairs together, where her mother stood waiting in the living room. She turned nervously at their footsteps, offering a hesitant but honest smile. Clarke took a deep breath and squeezed Bellamy’s hand. _Let’s try this again._

“Mom, this is Bellamy Blake. My boyfriend,” she tacked on unnecessarily, but it felt good to say so anyways. Plus, it was worth the happy look he sent her. “Bellamy, this is my mom, Abigail Griffin.”

Bellamy moved forward to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Likewise,” her mom replied sincerely. “Please, call me Abby, everyone does. I apologize for earlier. I hope we haven’t scared you off already with such poor behavior.”

Being his usual wonderful self, he brushed it off with a quick shake of his head. “No big deal. I don’t scare that easy,” he replied, and that was that. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. Clarke was usually the one decorating it with all her drawings,” she smiled.

“I can imagine.” When he grinned at Clarke, she stepped forward to link their fingers once more. 

“So mom, I was thinking we could take Bellamy to Ollie’s for coffee? And then we can walk around town for a bit, and maybe go to that Italian place for dinner?” She hesitated, then added, “You… you can bring Marcus. If you want.”

Her mom’s eyes widened a little but she nodded gratefully. “I’ll ask, though I think he might have to work tonight. He’s a police officer, so his schedule sometimes changes without warning.”

“Okay. But at some point before we go, I should say a proper hello. To make up for my earlier first impression.” She glanced at Bellamy, switching topics. “Ollie’s has the best, fluffiest bread you’ve ever eaten. I swear, you’ll never look at it the same way again.”

He grinned and swept an arm out in front. “Lead the way, princess.”

~~~~~~~

She was right, of course. He could have eaten a hundred of those rolls and never gotten full. They sat in the small bakery by one of the large bay windows, the sunlight streaming through the glass and making Clarke’s hair shine like a golden halo. She caught him staring nearly every time it happened, which was a lot, but only smiled and gently nudged his leg under the table.

Her mother was unfailingly polite, and a little eager to make up for their first less-than-pleasant meeting. But she was genuine in her questions, and he answered as honestly as he could, putting as much thought behind his answers. Thankfully it was fairly standard stuff - his major, his sister, his plans moving forward. All things he could talk about pretty easily.

Still, it wasn’t long before Clarke cut in, easing the conversation away from him and onto her studies and her mom’s work. He touched her knee in thanks, content to be able to just look around for a while. When the clouds began to gather ominously outside, the three of them hastily made it back to the house just before the rain began to pour down in sheets. At the distant rumble of thunder, Clarke sighed.

“So much for showing you around,” she said apologetically.

“No problem, princess. It’s only day one, right?” He smiled and kissed her nose, missing how her mom watched them. 

“Yeah, but I really wanted to take you to the Piazza for dinner. I don’t know if we have any food here,” Clarke looked helplessly at her mother. The dejected look on her face was almost more than he could bear. Before she could answer, Bellamy found himself interrupting.

“Hey, I’m sure we can figure something out,” he said quickly. “After all, between you and me we have a lot of experience with limited ingredients, right? I’m sure it can’t be worse than pickled pizza.”

For a second, he wondered if he should have even offered so blindly, but then Clarke brightened and it was entirely worth it, even if he was about to make a fool of himself. “Really? You sure you don’t mind, Bell?”

“Of course not.”

She beamed and kissed his cheek before looking back at her mother. “Mom, you just wait. Bellamy’s an incredible cook. You’re going to be amazed, I promise.”

He found himself blushing as she heaped on the praise. Abby had a smile on her face as she noticed his ears redden. “How about you wait until we see what’s in the cupboards before making promises, hmm?” He asked nervously, and Clarke grinned, unconcerned.

“Come on.” She tugged him happily into the kitchen, where he was relieved to discover there was half a box of pasta, a jar of unopened alfredo sauce, and frozen veggies in the freezer. No meat, but he wasn’t about to protest. This was a heck of a lot more than he’d expected. He could easily work with it. 

“Any chance you have bread?” He asked hopefully. She rummaged around, emerging with half a loaf moments later, and he grinned. “Perfect.”

Clarke rose to her tiptoes, her hand curling under his chin to pull his mouth to hers. “Thank you,” she whispered, and he hummed and kissed her again, nibbling at her bottom lip until she shoved him away with a laugh. “I shouldn’t distract you.”

“On the contrary, you should absolutely distract me.” He wiggled his eyebrows and curled an arm around her waist, drawing her flush against him. She pretended to resist until his mouth landed on her neck, sucking gently, and then her head tipped back on a sigh.

The boom of thunder made them both jump and look to the window as the rain began to patter more fiercely against the glass. Bellamy laughed and nuzzled her cheek before finally letting her slip out of his grasp. She wandered into the living room, and a few minutes later he heard soft voices and smiled to himself.

It was actually quite calming to be in the kitchen, setting the pasta to boil while heating the sauce and rinsing the veggies. The familiar routine settled his nerves, to the point that he almost didn’t hear Clarke shuffle back inside. When he turned, she was setting a small radio on the counter and searching for an empty outlet. Then the music began and she turned up the volume, smiling at him as the notes drifted throughout the kitchen. Impulsively, he grabbed her hand and twirled her in circle, and she laughed and swayed with him at the stove.

That was how her mother found them, right as he’d sent Clarke into another spin. He was just holding the spoon up for her to taste the sauce when he caught Abby standing at the entrance out of the corner of his eye. She was fixated on her daughter’s flushed, smiling face, and when she finally turned to him Bellamy had to swallow at the gratefulness he found in her eyes.

He cleared his throat a few times. “The food shouldn’t take long. I was thinking of making garlic bread to go along with it, if you’d like some?”

“She _loves_ garlic bread,” Clarke chimed in. “Garlic anything, really. Right mom?”

Abby laughed. “Afraid so. It’s one of my vices.”

“It’s a good one to have,” Bellamy replied, turning on the oven. 

The sauce was bubbling at this point. Clarke noticed his eyes roaming from thing to thing and planted herself by the veggies. “I’ll take over seasoning and mixing these in. You focus on the bread. Mom, sit down.” It was hard not to smile as her familiar bossy tone emerged. “You must be exhausted. Didn’t you just come off a night shift?”

“Two, actually.” Abby sat down with a small sigh. “Not intentionally. But one of the patients got worse before he got better, so…” she trailed off with a shrug that was so Clarke-like that Bellamy had to smile as he knelt to put the bread into the oven.

“So Bellamy, I think you’ve managed the impossible,” Abby said after a moment. At his questioning glance, she casually elaborated, “Getting my daughter to help cook is no simple feat.”

His eyes flicked up to where Clarke was determinedly stirring the sauce. Red bloomed in her cheeks, but she didn’t say a word. The sight filled him with an unbearable amount of warmth, for her and all she’d given him. He got to his feet with a small chuckle, touching his lips to her hair for a moment. 

“I’m a lucky guy,” was all he said. He meant it in every way imaginable.

The kitchen was soon filled with the smell of garlic, from the bread and the heavy helping of spices Clarke had added to the veggies. He didn’t miss that she added an extra serving of pasta to her mom’s plate, so he followed suit and added another section of bread with it.

They sat down to eat at the small kitchen table, the conversation flowing easily between bites. It was mostly Clarke and her mom who spoke, and he found himself supremely interested as they both spoke of their various patient experiences. They were alike in so many ways, and yet clearly disagreed on other issues. But they both shared a vital compassion for the well-being of others, and he couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with Clarke because of it.

When she tossed a happy glance his way as they cleaned up, he pulled her close for a long moment. Her arms came around him without question, hands sliding up and down his back in a caress. Finally drawing back, he smiled and kissed her.

“Thank you for bringing me here," he said.

Because she was Clarke, she replied, “Thank you for coming with me.” 

Yeah, he was absolutely in love with her.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Wells… after some morning sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half of this is all smut. Woops.

The next morning, Clarke woke up snugly tucked against Bellamy’s back on her bed. Blinking, she idly nosed the material of his shirt. It was the sound of the front door snapping shut that had roused her from sleep. Just a minute later, she heard the familiar grumble of the car engine starting up. Other than that, the streets were mostly silent in the still of early morning. 

Between her blankets and Bellamy’s ever-present warmth, her dark room was like a bubble, separating them from everything else. This was one of her favorite things, waking up before the rest of the world did, able to simply bask in the contented feeling that was winding through her body. 

With a happy sigh, she wiggled closer to Bellamy, tightening her grip around him and smiling fondly at the quiet murmur of agreement that followed. Sleepy Bellamy was another one of her favorite things.

Waking a sleepy Bellamy… well, that was even better.

Clarke grinned to herself and purposely wedged a leg between both of his, her bare foot sliding up his calf. Bellamy shifted in his sleep. The hand splayed over his chest slid down to crawl under his shirt, fingers trailing lazily along his taut muscles. A grunt reached her ears. She leaned up and pressed her lips to the back of his neck, keeping the touch swift and featherlight. Then they trailed down his spine, over the thin cotton of his shirt, and she let her nails scrape lightly over the sharp line of his hipbones.

“Clarke,” he groaned, voice rough and drowsy. God, she loved that.

“Good morning,” she whispered back. Her tongue snuck out to trace the shell of his ear.

Bellamy made a small noise in this throat before suddenly twisting onto his back, yanking her atop him. She half-laughed, half-yelped while clutching his shoulders to keep her balance. He smiled sleepily, a hand snaking to the back of her head to pull her mouth down to his. They kissed languidly for a few moments, their hands wandering without purpose, simply for the joy of touch. 

When they parted for breath, Bellamy sighed, a finger tracing her lips. “Still can’t believe I was allowed to sleep in your bed. I was prepared for several nights on that couch.”

She laid kisses to his jaw. “I would have woken you up the same way,” she promised. “Besides, I’m pretty sure mom’s just glad _I’m_ still sleeping here. After yesterday morning, she probably thought I’d be checked into a hotel.”

He chuckled and turned his head so that their lips collided again. His fingers tangled in her hair as the kiss deepened, his other hand slipping under her long nightshirt to stroke over bare skin. Clarke hummed in encouragement and pressed against him.

The sound seemed to startle him from the kiss. He pulled back abruptly, a hand tightening at her waist to stop her movements. “Wait, Clarke…” he murmured. She whined in protest, frowning at his wide eyes as her hair draped around them like a waterfall. “Wait,” he said again. “We can’t. You- your mom-”

“Left ten minutes ago for work,” she finished, gently biting his chin. 

The words sank in. Seconds later his mouth lifted in a cocky grin. “And you waited _how long_ before waking me up?” He laughed affectionately at her vivid blush.

Not to be deterred, she leaned down to sink her teeth into the chord of muscle in his shoulder, smiling when his fingers dug into her hip and a strained moan sounded in her ear. Lifting her head, she arched an eyebrow. “Are you complaining?”

“Not a damn bit,” Bellamy said, sitting up and smashing their mouths together.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, settling more properly into his lap with a sigh and winding her hands into his unruly curls. His lips broke off to trail a path along her jaw, hands tracing soft patterns into her skin but otherwise not rushing. She, however, was very impatient, and scrabbled at his shirt until he relented with a knowing grin. 

Her mouth eagerly followed the slope of his shoulders before ducking to trace the cut of his chest, loving how his muscles twitched and flexed under her touch. But when her hands drifted to the waistband of his sweats, she found herself flat on her back so fast the breath was knocked out of her. Keeping her wrists pinned to the mattress, Bellamy kissed her again, plundering her mouth until she wasn’t capable of much more than gasping. 

Then his hands were at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and off and leaving her clad in only her polka-dot panties, flushed and spread out beneath him. He stopped for a second and just _looked_ at her, adoring and slightly awed, and it made her feel like the luckiest damn girl in the world.

When she held her arms out, he released a small sigh before falling atop her again with a sweet kiss that made her heart drum wildly. Then his mouth busied itself at her throat, sucking gently while his hands came up to tease and pluck at her nipples. Clarke moaned and arched into his touch, a hand grasping the sheets and the other twisting into his hair. Her eyes drifted shut, surrendering to the pleasure as he moved lower. He licked a wet ring around her nipple, lingering at the soft skin near the bud until she was whimpering. 

When his breath warmed the pebbled peak but wouldn’t do more, she swore. “Fuck you, Bell.”

“Yes please,” came the smartass reply.

She tugged at his hair in a way that she hoped was painful, but all it did was make that stupid talented mouth of his curve into a smirk. Then that same stupid mouth began to drift lazily again, away from where she wanted, and she nearly screamed in frustration. So she tried a different tactic. 

“Hey Blake, you wanna know a secret?” She waited until Bellamy lifted his head curiously before whispering, “No one’s ever made me come in this room before.”

It worked. He growled, clutching almost bruisingly at her hips, and enveloped a nipple within seconds, sucking with a renewed intensity that sent pleasure straight to her cunt.

“Shit, yes, _yes-_ ” she gasped, her back curving off the bed. Bellamy hummed agreeably at her reaction and continued to suck sharply, occasionally even nibble, and she unashamedly held him there. It wasn’t long before she was panting, hips bucking in desperation. Finally, his hand drifted downwards past her underwear, two fingers sliding easily into her heat. 

“Bellamy,” she mewled.

His fingers parted her slick folds, instantly thrusting upwards and nearly making her eyes roll back with relief. “Again,” he said roughly. 

She repeated his name over and over, pleading but also just fascinated by the effect it had on him. His breath came harshly, fingers quickening with each stroke. Every time his name tumbled from her lips, he responded with a small bite, and when he looked up once the possessive glint in his eyes made her moan unashamedly.

Still working at her, Bellamy leaned up to crush his mouth to hers in a demanding kiss, swallowing every high-pitched whine that was being wrenched from her throat. She was so wound up that it didn’t take long for her hips to start rotating frantically, begging for more. Then his thumb bore down on her clit, fingers crooking, and she was flooding around his hand, gasping into his mouth as the wave rolled outwards through her limbs and left her boneless. 

Mind still hazy, she finally cracked her eyes open to find him pressing gentle kisses to her shoulder. “Hey,” she whispered, and he lifted his head, smiling. “C’mere.” She wrapped her limbs around him like a bow, pressing her mouth to his and sighing. They kissed and kissed until her body began to ache again, and not for the first time she marveled at just how much she could want someone.

“Not fair.” Still dizzy, she whispered it against his lips, not even thinking about what she was saying. “You’re addicting. It’s like I’ll never have enough.”

Bellamy’s mouth curved up in a happy grin. “Trust me princess, it’s mutual.” He took her bottom lip between his teeth, toying with it until the sighs from her mouth turned desperate. Clarke leaned up to bite the curve of his neck in reply, her fingers pressing urgently into the base of his spine, only satisfied when his hips snapped forward.

He groaned and dipped his forehead to her shoulder, his breath coming in uneven puffs of air. Wiggling out of her panties, she spread her legs wide, knees up and feet planted firmly on the mattress as she tried to urge him on, nipping a path to his ear. “Bell, please.”

Bellamy was trembling a little when he raised up on his arms. “Yeah, okay. Just… _fuck,_ ” his eyes rolled back when her lips found his pulse. It was a moment before he could resume his thoughts. Then he pulled away, leaving her body suddenly cold. 

Clarke reached out with a sound of protest. “Hey, what-”

“Condom,” he ground out. Hopping off he bed, he shucked off the rest of his clothes and dug around in his travel bag as she giggled foolishly at the ceiling. Bellamy was grinning when he crawled back over her, settling into the cradle of her body like he’d always been there. Their lips met. Then he was sliding inside and her head tipped back, mouth falling open in bliss as he sank in to the hilt, his moan buried in her neck.

Bellamy hooked his arm under her left leg, pushing it up a little more and making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders. He pulled out of her at an agonizingly slow pace, and she’d just opened her mouth to scold him when his hips snapped forward and a burst of pleasure shot through her.

“Again, again,” she heard herself say. 

He continued the pace, pulling out slowly and then ramming forward, pinning her between himself and the bed so she couldn’t do much but hang on. “Oh god, _Bellamy-_ ” she keened. His mouth found hers in a sloppy kiss, noses mashed together as he drove into her. When the pressure began to build unbearably, Clarke tugged at his arm and he let go of her leg so she could lock both around his waist as he began to move faster. Their fingers wound together tightly. 

Then Bellamy’s lips were at her ear, impossible things spilling from his mouth, and between the sound of his low voice and his hands clutching hers and his cock deep inside her, she lost control hard and fast. With a few deliberate thrusts, she felt him still and then shudder, and she wrapped her arms around him so that he wouldn’t get any ideas about moving.

They laid there in her bed, sheets haphazardly strewn about, until the first hints of light began to appear outside. Clarke stubbornly clung to Bellamy when he tried to lift up. 

“No, stay,” she murmured. With a wide smile, he kissed the pout off her face. Then he eased out of her, rolling over to toss out the condom and clean up. Feeling cold, Clake blindly groped around for clothing, coming up with his shirt and slipping into it without hesitation.

As soon as he returned, she dragged him back until he was draped over her again, crooked smile still firmly in place. His head lay on her chest, messy curls tickling her chin. “Good?” He asked.

“Good,” she sighed happily.

~~~~~~~~

Bellamy was hopelessly distracted by the time they left to meet Wells for brunch at Clarke’s favorite diner. It was ridiculous how difficult it was not to glance over and get a flash of her beneath him in bed, hair strewn about and eyes hazy, that gorgeous body blushing under his gaze alone. The best part was that she wanted _him,_ and only him. 

As if called by his thoughts, Clarke looked over at that moment while they waited to cross the street. 

Blue eyes twinkling merrily, she tapped his jaw until he sheepishly closed his mouth, not even realizing it had been open to begin with. Her laugh echoed in the air as she tugged him across the small town, and the words were _right there,_ Bellamy could feel them ready to trip over his tongue and into her ear-

“Clarke!”

Their heads swiveled to the left, where a tall, dark-skinned boy was approaching with a big smile. 

“Wells!” Clarke ran the last couple of steps to be swept up in a bear hug, and Bellamy had to do everything in his power to keep his gaze neutral. He didn’t even know the kid and he was already a little - okay, a lot - envious. But then Clarke stepped back, her hand reaching for his, and when their fingers wove together it steadied his silly thoughts. Surprising him, she pressed a reassuring kiss to his shoulder, like she knew he needed it. 

“Bellamy, this is my best friend from high school, Wells Jaha,” she introduced. “Wells, this is my boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.” 

_Damn right I’m her boyfriend,_ he thought, and in the same second, _I’m ridiculous._ They shook hands, both subtly testing the other’s grip, but only so much. They were guys, after all. Guys with one very important girl in common. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Bellamy said as nicely as he could. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Clarke.”

“Likewise,” Wells replied. “She hasn’t shut up about you on the phone. It takes me forever to find a topic that doesn’t involve you. No offense.”

Bellamy grinned in delight as Clarke reddened. “None taken.”

“Okay both of you shut up, I’m hungry,” she interrupted, and to his amusement, all but shoved them inside the diner with a hand on each of their backs. They settled into a small table in the corner near the windows.

A waitress stopped by, introducing herself and handing over menus. “Any drinks to start off?”

“Coffee,” Clarke said immediately. With a wink in his direction, she added, “Just keep it coming, please.” 

He chuckled and turned to the menu. His mouth watered just by reading the descriptions. “Wow. Everything looks delicious.”

“Just you wait,” Clarke said smugly. “That’s only page one. You haven’t even reached the platter specials yet.”

Both she and Wells laughed at his haste to turn the page. It took him a few minutes, and sacrifices had to be made, but he eventually settled on a stack of pancakes with a side of bacon and home fries. Clarke got french toast and scrambled eggs - “I’ll just take a couple home fries from you” - and Wells decided to go for a breakfast omelet and an english muffin.

“We used to eat here all the time when we were younger,” Clarke explained between sips of coffee. “It started in middle school, because our parents used to meet here on the weekends, but in high school we kind of made it our own thing.”

“Saturday morning at 10a.m. on the dot. Whoever’s here last gets the bill,” Wells added with a grin. 

Clarke stuck out her tongue. “Whatever, just be glad I made it.”

Bellamy laughed. “Octavia and I - my sister,” he clarified to Wells, “we had a similar thing during her senior year of high school. It was my first year of college, and the first time that we’d been apart for so long, well… ever. So once a month we’d meet at a halfway point, this small fast food place in the middle of the highway, and split a milkshake and fries on the old picnic benches.”

Clarke covered his hand with hers, squeezing gently. “Let me guess,” she teased, “cookies and cream?” 

“The one and only,” he grinned. “It’s the only flavor we could agree on,” he explained to Wells. “She loves chocolate, and I like vanilla, so…”

“Yeah, Clarke mentioned you don’t like chocolate.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he protested for the hundredth time while Clarke giggled. “I just don’t like it _as much_ as I like other flavors.”

Just then, Wells’ food arrived. As he sprinkled extra salt and pepper atop the omelet, he said, “This place does milkshakes too, but they’re just alright. If you really want a good shake you have to go to Delilah’s.”

Clarke grabbed his arm. “Oh my god, Delilah’s! I totally forgot!” She turned to Bellamy. “Maybe we can stop there before the bus ride back.”

“Sounds good to me.” He looked at Wells. “So how long are you in town for?”

“I just got in last night. Should be here for a week, if all goes well. I’m a waiter,” he clarified. “I cleared the days with my manager, but you know how shifts can be sometimes.”

“There’s always one person who gets sick at the last minute,” Bellamy agreed. 

He nodded as their plates arrived. “What about you guys? Clarke, you still doing those crazy night shifts at the hospital?” 

“Just a couple now and then. Bell, pass the syrup?” She drizzled it over her french toast, and he grinned at the sight of her pink face and the way she was determinedly not meeting his eyes. “I cut back a little to focus more on studying for the MCAT.” 

Ugh. The Medical College Admissions Test. The thing that had taken over her life for the past month and would continue to do so for months to come. It had her stressed out to no end, even though she was impressive at hiding it in public.

“Riiiight, the MCAT. That beast. Have you signed up for a test date yet?” Wells asked.

“Mhmm,” Clarke answered between bites. “Finally did, two weeks ago. Took _a lot_ of convincing, but I did it.” 

Bellamy smiled to himself at the memory. How she’d endlessly paced back and forth in his kitchen waiting for the coffee to get done while her computer turned on; how she kept chewing on a long strand of hair in a habit he found only came through when she was _really_ nervous; how after she’d finally registered she panicked and nearly spilled coffee all over both their laptops; how he'd proceeded to lay her on the counter and put his mouth on her until she stopped thinking entirely.

“Biggest test of all,” Clarke was saying when he came back to reality.

“Final obstacle before she takes over the world, is what she means,” he interjected with a tap to her nose, and she smiled.

Wells chuckled. “Got that right. Please tell me you’ve narrowed down that absurd list of schools?”

“She hasn’t,” Bellamy replied immediately. “Not unless you count 30 to 27 as ‘narrowing down.’”

“Shut up, both of you,” Clarke scolded, scrunching her nose when all they did was laugh in reply. “It’s a difficult process! I have to be prepared for the worst.”

“Look, any school that doesn’t love you immediately doesn’t deserve you,” he told her. She smiled shyly, his favorite shade of red gracing her cheeks.

“I concur. So what about you, Bellamy?” He looked over at Wells’ question. “I’m guessing since you’re a senior you’ve already started applying to grad schools?”

“Yeah, a few.” He drained his coffee in a quick gulp. “Some of them have different deadlines based on rolling admissions and start dates, so I’ve been trying to focus on the ones that need my application soonest. Just a lot of essays to write, really. And I'm trying to see if there's any financial aid available, but so far it's looking like loans are gonna be my best friend.”

“I hear that," Wells answered sympathetically. "You looking in any location specifically, or all over?”

“Anywhere that’ll let me in, I guess.” _Please, god, let me stay near this girl._ “And it's a long shot, but some have special scholarships or grants if you're in a particular track of study. Even the littlest bit would help at this point.”

“They’ll all let you in,” Clarke butted in. “You should see his essays, Wells, I wish I could steal them for my own freaking applications. They’re so eloquent. And he has research papers for miles. Not to mention like three different thesis ideas he can’t decide on. Or is it four now?”

Bellamy grinned and shrugged. “I don’t like to get ahead of myself too much. Kind of feels like tempting fate and all. We’ll see what happens.”

Ever observant, Clarke eased the conversation onto Wells, peppering him with questions about school, work, life, his new girlfriend. She teased and prodded lightly, her protectiveness showing through especially on that last topic, enough so that he could tell that maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been through some heartbreak. 

It also didn’t escape his notice that she refused to leave the two of them alone for even a moment, a fact that amused him to no end. 

Time passed quickly, and before knew it they were standing outside the diner once more, this time waving goodbye to Wells. Clarke sighed a little and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s always sad to see him go,” she said. “But, I’m glad he’s happy, even if I can’t always be there to see it.”

He kissed her forehead and hugged her close. “You’re a great friend.” 

They stood there for a moment longer until she rolled her shoulders briskly and wrapped an arm around his back. “Alright. I really want to show you around a bit, but first, we need to go back to the house.”

He let her tug him along. “Okay? Why, exactly?”

“I need to pee.”

Bellamy laughed. “And you couldn’t have gone in the diner because…?” When she didn’t answer immediately, his eyes widened. “Oh my god,” he gasped in mock outrage. “You were keeping an eye on us, weren’t you?” 

“Please,” she retorted, “you two were so obvious, shaking hands all formally and lowering your voices even more. Like two bucks locking antlers in the wild.”

It was his turn to flush to the tips of his ears. He had most certainly _not_ deepened his voice. 

That much.

~~~~~~~

That night, Clarke slipped into bed and instantly wrapped her limbs around him. “Today was a good day,” she murmured sleepily into his back.

Bellamy grasped her hand and pulled her even closer. “Yeah. It really was.”

She sighed, settling into the groove of his body by second nature. It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out, but still he waited for a soft snore to reach his ears. Only then did he whisper into the darkness. 

“I love you.”

She didn’t move an inch, still fast asleep. Bellamy let out the breath he’d been holding. 

It had felt good to say it. Beyond good.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final day of the trip - meeting Kane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading and commenting! updates might be a bit slower to come now that classes are starting up with work, but I'll do my best to keep them weekly. hope you enjoy!

On the final day of their trip, they woke up early to have breakfast with Clarke's mom. At Clarke's hopeful glance, Bellamy scrounged up some french toast for the occasion as well. But afterwards, Abby was unexpectedly called into work, and Clarke being Clarke, urged her to go despite her fervent apologies. And so they were left alone for the final day. 

Stretched out side by side on her bed, they lazily chatted and kissed before deciding to continue their game of Truth from the bus. Eagerly, Bellamy raised up on an elbow while his hand drew light circles at the soft skin behind Clarke’s knee. It was the rare occasion that she’d worn a skirt, since they had plans to go to a nice dinner later. He wasted no time in picking up where they'd left off.

“So, what’s your public place of choice?” He asked with a grin.

A delicate eyebrow lifted in his direction. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

Bellamy nipped at her jaw in rebuke. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, princess. Stop stalling and answer.”

“Library,” Clarke replied instantly.

It took him a second to remember how to breathe, and even then it was far too difficult. “Jesus, Clarke. I’m never going to be able to walk into that building again.”

“It was _your_ question,” came her petulant response.

He thought for a moment, curious. “So just the library in general, or do you have something more specific in mind?”

Clarke didn’t reply, determinedly staring at a spot on the ceiling instead. When a faint pink blush spread over her face, his mouth dropped open. 

“You do! Interesting,” he murmured. _We’re gonna have to get to the bottom of this…_ Arching a teasing eyebrow, he said. “You’d have to be awfully quiet in there, you know.”

“I can be quiet,” she insisted, and he couldn’t help but smirk a little, because _that was a lie._

“Oh yeah?” His hand drifted a little higher, flirting at the edge of her skirt. “Prove it.”

Clarke’s lips parted in a small _o_ as his fingers inched upwards, dragging lightly along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her body quivered as he got close to her center, only to switch to the other leg and slowly begin tracing a path downwards. Clarke closed her eyes and bit her lip, sinking a little further into the pillow.

Bellamy latched his mouth to the smooth column of her neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses along the skin. Hearing her murmur in reply, he grinned. “What was that about being quiet?”

“Shut up, that doesn’t count,” she sighed, even as a hand curled into his hair. He chuckled.

He’d just begun to nudge aside her cardigan when a persistent knocking echoed throughout the house. _Oh, come on…_ He groaned a little. Clarke lifted her head blearily, looking at him in confusion. 

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on being interrupted.”

As if whoever it was had heard him, the knocking paused, then began with renewed intensity. Bellamy stifled his laugh when Clarke shot narrowed eyes at the bedroom door, as if the glare alone would will the person away from the front door. 

“Abby? It’s me, come on, I’m sorry I’m late.” 

_Ah, hell._ Bellamy immediately sat up at the man’s voice, pulling Clarke up as well. They both traded a glance, having recognized the owner all too quickly. She grumbled under her breath and peeked up apologetically. 

“I guess I should get that.”

“You should.” He kissed the spot below her ear. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” She sighed and grasped his hand, pulling him downstairs. When she swung the front door open, a middle-aged man stood on the porch, paused with his hand still raised mid-knock. Bellamy knew him as the guy who’d been with Clarke’s mother the day they arrived.

“Oh. Hello Clarke, how are you?” he said pleasantly. Then he glanced at Bellamy. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“Bellamy.” They shook hands firmly.

“Right, Bellamy. I’m Marcus Kane.” The older man looked past Clarke expectantly. “I… uh, is your mother here? She said we might all grab coffee, if that’s alright with you.”

Clarke scrunched her nose. “Oh, mom didn’t tell you? She got called into work this morning, something about an emergency appendectomy. I haven’t heard from her, but she usually has her phone off while she’s in the OR.”

Eyes wide, Kane checked his phone. “Shoot. That must the voicemail I didn’t listen to.” He smiled ruefully. “I was already running late because of a last-minute case, and then I just headed over because I thought she was calling to scold me.”

Bellamy grinned and nudged Clarke, whose mouth seemed to be fighting its own smile. “Sounds familiar.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry about that. Well, we have coffee here, if you’d like to come in? And then maybe when mom gets home you can join us for dinner at the Piazza.”

“I…” Kane hesitated. “Do you mind? I don’t want to interrupt, or anything-”

Clarke reddened a little but waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. Maybe we can get to know each other a bit before she gets back. It might make dinner less awkward for everyone.” 

He chuckled at that. “I suppose it would, wouldn’t it? Thank you, Clarke. I appreciate that.”

“Sure. Well, come on in.” They stepped aside to let him enter, and he eased off his shoes almost immediately, a habit that made Clarke smile fondly. 

Marcus was good enough to ask “This way?” as if he hadn’t been there before, though all three of them knew he had. Still, Clarke seemed to appreciate it. She nodded and motioned down the hall and to her left. 

As he headed for the kitchen, Bellamy slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close for a swift kiss. “That was good of you,” he murmured. She smiled and nodded, linking their fingers together before tugging him along.

~~~~~~~~

As she rifled through the contents of the now-full cupboards, Clarke did her best to make small talk with Mr. Kane. Or Kane, as he insisted on being called. Apparently her mother continued to call him Marcus, but he’d long realized that battle wasn’t going to be won. The endearing way he spoke of her mom went a long way towards putting him in her good graces - not that he needed to know that right away.

“So mom mentioned you’re a cop?” She asked. In the same breath, she muttered, “Bell, seriously, nobody but you can reach the coffee when it’s on the top shelf.” 

They both laughed, Bellamy much more loudly, as they watched her stretch to her tiptoes and reach for the tub of coffee, only to have her fingers miss by several inches. “My bad.” He came over and plucked it off the shelf easily, handing it to her with a grin. 

She stuck out her tongue before glancing at Kane. “Sorry about that, go ahead.”

“No problem. And yes, I am. I’ve been with the force for about ten years now, going on eleven next month. Moved around quite a bit. I only just arrived here last year.”

“How’d you meet mom?”

“We, uh…” At his rueful tone, Clarke turned to see him smiling somewhat sheepishly. “It wasn’t on the best of terms,” Kane finally said. “You see, one of her patients had ingested something that our investigators needed as part of evidence for a case, but she refused to hand it over unless she saw official paperwork.” He shrugged. “I can’t blame her, really. Here I was, a new face, demanding stomach contents at 3 a.m.”

Even Clarke had to giggle at that. He seemed relieved by her amusement. “Not my best moment, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “first impressions can be deceiving.” _I would know._ Heading to the sink to retrieve water for the coffeemaker, she peeked sidelong at Bellamy. He was smiling widely, definitely having the same thoughts she was.

“So your mother says you’re studying medicine as well?” Kane asked curiously.

She nodded and measured out the grounds. “I’m in undergrad right now, but I’ll be taking my admissions test in a couple months. My score will pretty much dictate which schools I can apply after that.”

“Likely everywhere,” Bellamy cut in, squeezing her shoulder. She smiled and shook her head. He knew all too well how her nerves could overtake her, and made it a point to loudly shush her doubts.

“That’s wonderful,” Kane said honestly. “I've heard that test is quite the monster. Nearly three and a half hours?"

"Clarke's up to the challenge," Bellamy cut in, a bit sharp. She grasped his hand with a small smile, trying to silently tell him it was okay. Though, she was grateful all the same.

Kane had instantly picked up on his tone. "I'm absolutely sure you are," he said hastily. "I only meant it seems very time-consuming, and I'm sure you must be working very hard for it." 

"I am," she said. "It's tough, but, I think it'll be worth it, in the end."

"Of course it will. It’s a hard line of work, but if there’s anyone who could make it, I’m sure it’s you.”

Clarke was starting to see how this man might keep her mother sane. “Thank you. That’s really kind of you to say.” She started the coffeemaker, hearing the tell-tale drip begin soon after. 

“I mean it. She’s very proud of you, Clarke. All I hear about is the amazing things you’re going to do.” Her throat was a little tight at the moment, so she only nodded in thanks. Ever observant, he looked at Bellamy. “And what are you studying, young man?”

Bellamy straightened a little. “History. With a literature minor. I want to teach.”

“That’s admirable. What level?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure yet. I was thinking college, but there’s a lot that goes along with that, needing to be published and getting tenure and stuff. And I might need a higher degree. But I think I’d enjoy high school too.” He rubbed his neck like he always did when he thought he’d said too much. “We’ll see. That’s what student teaching is for, right?”

“Definitely. It’s good to keep an open mind. Have you already chosen your grad school?”

“God, no,” Bellamy grinned. “I’m still drowning in the application process.”

Clarke waved a hand as the coffeemaker beeped, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma. “He’ll be fine. He’s got recommendations out the whazoo and essays for _days._ ” 

She poured coffee into three mugs and grabbed the sugar. Turning, she found Bellamy standing behind her with a carton of half and half. “Trade you,” he grinned. She laughed and accepted the creamer while handing over the sugar. Kane took it all in with a somewhat approving glance as they sat down.

“So,” she took a sip and propped her chin in her hand, fixing Kane with a look. “Tell me Kane, what are your intentions with my mother?”

He looked stricken for a full six seconds before she sniggered, unable to keep up the facade. Bellamy was shaking his head, his eyes glinting all the same. _Troublemaker._

“Sorry,” she grinned at Kane, who looked more than a little relieved. “I couldn’t resist.”

He laughed and raised his mug to her. “I guess I had that coming. Although to be fair, my only intention is for her to be happy.”

“Good answer,” Clarke replied.

~~~~~~~~

That was how her mom found them an hour later, still sitting at the kitchen table and chatting over now-empty cups of coffee. She looked more than a little stunned, and quite frankly, a bit concerned, but when Clarke greeted her with a big hug and a whispered, “I approve,” she sighed gratefully and returned her embrace.

They finally took Bellamy to the Piazza, the Italian place she’d been harping about the whole trip, and to her satisfaction he absolutely devoured his meal. Clarke convinced her mom to have a glass of wine, knowing it would help loosen her nerves a bit more. As far as she was concerned, dinner was a huge success, seeing as there were no major arguments and very little awkward banter.

Afterwards, she grasped Bellamy’s hand as they left, leaning up to whisper, “Want to go for a walk?” At his happy nod, she called out, “Hey mom, I’m kind of stuffed. We’re going to head over to the park for a bit.”

“Okay, just be careful heading back. What time is your bus tomorrow?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“Perfect. I have work at eleven so I’ll see you off.” Abby kissed her cheek and nodded at Bellamy. Clarke watched her stroll off with Kane, waiting nearly two blocks before she finally took his offered arm. 

She smiled and tucked her head against Bellamy’s shoulder, snaking her arm around his back to turn him in the opposite direction. “We’re going to a park?” He asked, eyes alight.

“Yeah. My dad used to take me there all the time when I was a kid.”

“Does it have a tire swing?” He asked eagerly, and she laughed heartily, the sound ringing in the air. “What?” Bellamy frowned. “My legs were always too long for the normal swings,” he muttered, making her laugh even harder.

When she caught her breath, Clarke reached up to cup his neck and kissed him soundly. “You are just a big kid on the inside aren’t you?”

“You forgot nerd,” he added, not in the least bit fazed.

“Love you, nerd,” she murmured, feeling him smile as he kissed her back. “And yes,” she added after a long string of kisses, “there might be a tire swing.”

She giggled and dragged him the rest of the way, chortling at the gleeful look on his face when the park came into view and he saw for himself that there was indeed a giant tire swing off to the side. Obviously now there was no doubt to where they were headed, so she let him take off while pulling her phone out for a quick moment. 

_Bell and tire swings? Seriously?_

Octavia's reply took just seconds. _OMG U DID NOT._

_I did._

Clarke grinned smugly and went to join Bellamy where he was already situated atop the heavy black tire, beaming. Laughing, she propped herself up across from him. “Ready?” She asked. Together, they began to rock back and forth until the motion became effortless, the tire swinging from side to side. Clarke looped her arms around the chain links and sighed. Opposite her, Bellamy was completely at peace, his eyes closed and shoulders slumped in relaxation.

“You know I used to take O to a park like this when we were kids,” he said eventually. His eyes were still shut. “Of course, her favorite was the monkey bars.”

“Of course,” Clarke agreed with a smile. “It was always the swings for me. Dad would always start off slow, then pull me up super high and let go.” She laughed softly. “Mom used to say she could hear me squealing from across town.”

Bellamy finally opened his eyes, smiling back at her. “Come here,” he whispered, holding out a hand.

And even though she knew the weight would tip a little with them both on the same side, she dragged her feet in the sand anyways, slowing the tire’s motion before she clambered over to him, curling up in the crook of his arm as they began to swing again.

“Clarke,” Bellamy’s voice was very quiet when he spoke a little while later. She didn’t lift her head, but tapped his knee to let him know she was listening. “I meant it, that first day, when I said I was a lucky guy. Thank you for this.” His hand clamped over her mouth. “And don’t even say ‘thank you for coming’,” he warned, and she smiled and kissed his palm even though she _had_ been about to say exactly that. 

Bellamy continued softly, stroking her cheek. “I don’t just mean thank you for bringing me here, though believe me, that’s a big part of it. I just mean…” he sighed, a little frustrated when he couldn’t seem to find adequate words. “I just mean _thank you._ For everything.”

Clarke’s throat glued itself together for several minutes, but he didn’t seem to mind that she couldn’t reply right away. When she finally managed to gather herself, she glanced up and put her hand on his cheek until he met her gaze.

“I’m not so great with words, but I want you to listen anyways,” she said firmly, and he smiled a little and nodded. “I never could have imagined everything that’s happened the past few months. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way with anyone. But for what’s it worth, I’m so unbelievably glad that it didn’t just happen with anyone. It happened with _you.”_ She smiled shakily.

“And you know what the best part is? I’m usually never excited about not knowing what’s next. But I am now, because you’re with me.”

“I’m with you,” Bellamy repeated, and it sounded like an agreement and a promise the way he said it. Clarke could only nod and kiss him deeply until they were both out of breath.

They stayed wound together as the evening faded from dusk into the deep inky black of night, not moving until they absolutely had to. Bellamy unfolded himself from the swing first, his laughter ringing out in the dark when the sudden lack of weight sent the swing flying, Clarke hanging on with a tiny shriek. Grabbing the links, he slowed it down enough to curl an arm around her and lift her off, still chuckling as he kissed her. 

She chose the long way back to her house, and they walked along the sidewalk in a comfortable silence. “It’s weird,” she said. “Whenever I leave here I always feel like I’ve been away from reality for a while. Like it’s a bubble that just pauses time until I have to go back to my actual life.”

“It definitely feels like a world away,” Bellamy agreed. “But in a good way. Like taking a deep breath before you dive back in, you know?”

“Yeah. Normally I’m a little bummed to have to go back, but now I kind of can’t wait.” Clarke grinned up at him. “I think I’ve become quite fond of our new reality.”

Bellamy hugged her close and kissed her forehead. “Me too, princess. Me too.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fools in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI - this chapter & and the following two have a lot of sex XD it unintentionally lined up that way. But the first part of this is actual progression :) Also, **_enoughtotemptme_** : your ‘triple dog dare’ from several weeks ago essentially makes up the latter portion of this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Time seemed to speed up without their permission. Upon returning from their trip, both were thrown into work and school without much respite. Bellamy took on a few more shifts at the bar, trying to get extra cash where ever he could to help pay for his graduate applications. When he wasn’t at work, he was staring at his laptop screen, trying to will words onto the page, often with Clarke right next to him, her nose buried in countless notes.

Her studying had increased nearly tenfold in the early weeks of the semester. She was taking the minimum course load, putting all her energy towards the MCAT. After some debate, she’d declined to take a prep course, deciding she’d be better off saving the money and just studying on her own. Which resulted in both of them essentially falling asleep atop the covers - or each other - late into the night, surrounded by books and papers.

It was just about one month from the exam that Bellamy came back from throwing his laundry in the washer to find Clarke on the phone, hands gesturing wildly as the words flew from her mouth almost faster than he could follow.

“I already told you, it’s in less than four weeks and I’m trying to do one practice test every other day, but you know I also have work and _other classes_ \--”

He strode over and plucked the phone from her hand, ignoring her feeble protests. “Hi, Mrs. Griffin?” It was a shot in the dark, but he was right. “Yes, hi, it’s Bellamy. I’m fine ma’am, thanks. Listen I hate to interrupt, but I promised Clarke I’d quiz her on the neural structures of the heart before my next class, so if it’s okay I’ll have her call you back. Thanks.”

He ended the call before she could reply, switching the ringer to silent and tossing the phone on the couch. Clarke glared at him open-mouthed, alternately thankful and anxious. 

“You know that was totally wrong, right?” she finally said. “Neuronal structures are in the brain, not the heart. That’s why they’re _neuronal.”_

Bellamy grinned and took her into his arms. “That was a test. See? You passed.”

She rolled her eyes and hit his chest lightly. “Bell, I’m terrified,” she admitted shakily. “My entire future hangs on this stupid test, and I can take all the practice exams I want but it’s all up to chance on the day of-”

“Hey,” he interrupted gently. “Have you forgotten who you are? You’re _Clarke Griffin._ I’m pretty sure you’re smarter than my entire senior class. _Combined,”_ he added pointedly. “You always rise to the occasion.”

“But-”

“No buts. You can do this, Clarke. I believe in you. If nothing else, take strength from that.”

She sighed and nodded, but still chewed her lip worriedly. “It’s just such a huge thing. I just… I can’t stop thinking about it, you know?”

Bellamy made a split-second decision. 

“Then think about this,” he whispered. “I love you, Clarke.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, the tiny crease on her forehead making a reappearance as she processed it. Then her eyes shot up, searching him for confirmation that she hadn’t just imagined it. He offered the best smile he could muster over the wild thump of his heart. She opened her mouth in a silent _o_ , bright blue eyes widening to saucers for a long minute.

“Really?” She asked in wonder.

“Afraid so,” he replied, repeating her words from before.

Clarke smiled, a beam of light that nearly blinded him. “Say it again?” She requested softly.

“I love you.” The words were strong and certain, his voice steady. Because it was true. It had been true for so long - now, he wasn't sure he'd ever stop repeating it. Bellamy kissed her deeply, murmuring it directly into her mouth again before moving to kiss every inch of her face, the words tumbling out over and over until Clarke threw her arms around him and held him close. He lifted her to her toes. They swayed on the spot for a long time.

When she finally drew back, it was only to yank his face down to hers for a fierce kiss. He met her intensity with his own, devouring her mouth as he sank a hand deep into her hair and gave a small tug. She arched into him, her own hands purposeful as they snuck under his shirt to splay on his back. He hoisted her up into his arms without warning, smiling against her neck when she broke away with a small gasp.

They tumbled onto his bed in a tangle of limbs, nearly getting in each other’s way in their haste to remove clothes. Clarke’s laugh echoed off the walls when his thick hair got stuck in the wristband of her watch, forcing them to pause their hasty movements. Bellamy groaned against her bare stomach, feeling the muscles flex as she giggled. When he sucked lightly at the skin, she trembled, hands faltering.

“Bell,” she scolded weakly. “Let me focus before you get hurt.” Obediently, he stopped teasing, though he couldn’t help nuzzle her belly all the same. Once she’d carefully gotten him free, she drew him up with a sweet smile.

“So much for being romantic,” he grinned sheepishly.

“I don’t need romance,” Clarke replied, winding her arms around his neck. “I just need you.”

He kissed her slowly then, coaxing, taming his desire into something more patient but no less loving. The urgency dissipated, leaving in its place a gentle affection that took the form of quiet sighs and the rustle of sheets as they came together. He gave all of himself to her, leaving silent promises upon her skin and drowning in those clear blue eyes until her whispered _I love you_ sent him tumbling over the edge with her right behind. 

~~~~~~~ 

Afterwards, as they lay tangled under the covers, Clarke shifted until she was sprawled half atop Bellamy. Her fingers traced the indent in his chin, then tiptoed up over his lips and the ridge of his nose to his forehead. It was unbelievable how this face had become so dear to her - how she couldn't imagine not seeing it every day. _Hell if that's something I'm going to let happen._ When Bellamy smiled up at her, she returned it just as widely, her heart nearly bursting.

“You love me,” she murmured again.

Bellamy's hand continued its lazy trail up her back before cupping her neck to bring her mouth to his. “And you love me.” 

She sighed, completely at peace in the moment, wanting to prolong it as much as possible. Their lips joined again like old friends. When they finally parted, Clarke brushed her nose against his, smiling until her cheeks ached.

"I think I finally understand the meaning of being incandescently happy," she said. Bellamy's fingers traced her bare shoulder, his smile a beacon that called to her heart. She just couldn't stop kissing him. “Well now I don’t know how I’ll ever get any work done,” she teased.

He nipped at the underside of her jaw, mouth curving when her fingers dug into his shoulders. “You’ll survive,” he said confidently. Drawing her lips to his again, Bellamy tangled a hand in her hair and deepened the kiss until she was out of breath. 

“Besides,” his eyes gleamed, “I’m sure I can find some ways to reward you for studying.” His other hand traveled down to her backside and squeezed pointedly, making her arch up against him with a gasp.

“C-can’t object to that,” she answered breathily, and his smile was all mischief when he kissed her again. 

~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning, Bellamy made good on his promise to keep her focused - or, his version of “focused”, anyways. She was seated on the couch, curled in his hoodie and her blue sleep shorts with a physics book open in her lap. Honestly, she was attempting to read that instead of watching him shuffle around in the kitchen. 

He’d insisted on waking up at dawn with her - “I could use a kick in the ass to work on my applications anyways” - so now he was all rumpled and groggy. It was one of her favorite looks on him, where everything softened to the point that she just wanted to wrap herself around him and not let go.

With a quiet sigh, Clarke shook her head and concentrated on the page in front of her, trying to replace Bellamy’s sleepy eyes and perfect hands with fluid dynamics and conservation of energy.

It was mildly successful, too, until out of nowhere Bellamy tipped up her chin and planted a long, searching kiss on her lips that didn’t stop. When his warm hands unzipped the hoodie to find nothing underneath, he whispered _I love you_ against her lips, and that was pretty much all it took for her to drag him down atop her. Soon, her book was flung aside and she found herself still in his hoodie but not much else while he knelt on the floor, her legs propped over his shoulders. She squirmed, feeling his days-old stubble graze her flesh, then noticed his eyes flick over to her open book before meeting hers.

Bellamy flashed her a devious grin from between her thighs.

“Tell me about thermodynamics,” he said, low and gruff.

She came well before the coffee was done. 

~~~~~~~~

Clarke all but floated back to her apartment in the evening, having stayed with Bellamy right up until the moment he absolutely had to leave for work or risk missing his shift entirely because they decided being unclothed was more important. She was still smiling goofily to herself as she unlocked the front door. Octavia took one look at her and sprang up from the armchair, eyes wide and arms outstretched in the beginnings of a victory dance.

“Oh my god. He finally said it?”

At her nod, her friend shrieked and grabbed her in a gasping hug, twirling her around the room until she was sure their laughter could be heard down the block. With a sigh, Clarke collapsed on the couch, yanking Octavia down next to her.

“I’m so happy I don’t even know what to do with myself,” she laughed.

Octavia swung an arm around her shoulder and declared, “This calls for a celebration. We need pizza and booze. And ice cream.”

“And Raven,” Clarke added, snuggling further into her side.

The brunette snorted. “Well, duh. That was a given.”

Raven arrived with several bottles of booze clinking in her bag as she sprinted up the stairs, sending Clarke into giggles all over again. But soon she’d zeroed in on one particular bottle. “Oh god, you did _not_ bring kahlua! Do you not remember the last time?” She demanded.

“Uh, hello, of course I do. Why else do you think it’s here with this tub of ice cream? Special occasion and all,” Raven grinned and winked. 

Groaning, she clapped a hand over her eyes. There was no way this could end well.

~~~~~~~~

It was a little after 2.am. that Clarke stumbled towards her room, stopping one last time to check that her friends were well and truly passed out on the couch. The kahlua had certainly done its job - along with the vodka sodas and whatever else they’d consumed. She’d kind of lost track. 

Closing her door with a grin, she didn’t bother turning on the light, just tapped the small globe-shaped lamp at the foot of her bed, letting the soft glow emanate throughout the room. She changed into her shorts and pulled on Bellamy’s large grey shirt, burying her nose into the material for a moment and inhaling the scent of him. 

Her phone lit up just as she slid under the covers. _Come to your balcony, Juliet._

Clarke sniggered into her pillow, tapping out a reply. _You’re such a loser._

_**Plink!**_

Her head snapped up. A second later, the sound came again, from the corner of her window pane. Shaking her head, she hurried to the window with a foolish smile. Bellamy stood on the sidewalk, arm raised mid-throw, an equally playful grin on his face.

Opening her window, Clarke grinned and propped her chin in her hand. “Romeo and Juliet were idiots,” she called out, rewarded by his rich laugh.

“I concur.” His eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Would you rather I called you Rapunzel, then?”

She tilted her head. “What happened to princess?” 

A smile spread across his face, deliberate and devastating. “If you insist.”

Blushing, Clarke shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”

 _”Your_ idiot,” Bellamy answered with a cheery grin. “So, princess, do I get to come in or what?”

She pretended to think about it, even though it was obviously rhetorical. Putting a finger to her lips, she peeked out her door. Raven was still deeply asleep, facedown on the couch. But Octavia was nowhere to be found. Frowning, Clarke carefully made her way to the opposite door and put her ear to it. Loud snores rang out from the other side. Muffling a giggle into her palm, she headed back to dig out her keys, and went to the window again. 

“Think fast,” she hissed, and threw them down. Bellamy caught them easily and strode for the door. She met him at the top of the stairs, winding her arms around his shoulders for a kiss that nearly toppled him backwards. Then she grasped his hand and made him remove his shoes before they crept back into her apartment. 

At the sight of all the empty bottles littering the living room, he cocked an amused eyebrow. Their bare feet made almost no noise on the floor as they tiptoed to her room, giggling like kids once she locked the door.

Bellamy leaned down to kiss her, only to pause just inches from her lips and draw back. She whined and tried to follow, hands clutching his shoulders, only to find him grinning wickedly.

“Princess, did you go on a bender without me?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Clarke put a hand over her mouth, realizing her breath was probably overwhelming at the moment. Laughing softly, Bellamy pulled her hand off and peppered her face in kisses, nuzzling her neck. The shadow of stubble on his jaw made her wriggle helplessly in his grip. _I'm such a goner if he figures that out..._

“Hang on, I’m going to get drunk on you now,” he reclaimed her mouth, taking advantage of her parted lips to lick inside and make her moan. Even though part of her brain was sending out alarm bells at the fact that they were most certainly not alone in her apartment, the rest of her body seemed to be overriding those worries all too quickly. As if he’d heard, Bellamy curled an arm around her waist, pressing her more firmly against him as if to prove he had no intention of stopping. 

“I was wondering where this shirt went,” he said. His hand came up to cup her breast, his palm grazing the hardened bud and making her push into his grip. Smirking, he bent to nip at her ear. “Cold, princess?”

Clarke grunted and smacked his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut all the same. Seconds later, she barely stifled a yelp as he shifted them onto the bed. She overcame her surprise to quickly clamber into his lap and pull his mouth to hers, sinking her hands into his hair. Their lips slid together in harmony. 

Bellamy’s hands flirted at the hem of her shirt, knuckles grazing up her sides at a torturous pace that made her whimper into his mouth. When the smile became a smirk, Clarke bit his lower lip in rebuke. He drew back, easing the shirt off and dropping on the floor. He stared at her hungrily, taking in every inch of newly revealed skin like it was the first time, even though it most certainly was not. And despite that - maybe because of that - she found herself reddening under his gaze all over again.

Unable to stand it any longer, Clarke closed the gap between them again, pulling his lips up to hers. Before she could slip her hands under his shirt, his arms had surrounded her in a snug hold. Bellamy’s mouth left hers to trail a hot path down her neck, all tongue and teeth before shifting to her breasts, laving them with attention until she was shaking in his arms. When Bellamy lifted his head, the kiss was rougher, messier, his control beginning to slip. Clarke pressed herself against him, her tongue swiping past his lips and eagerly taking possession of his mouth until he moaned and ground his hips against hers.

His fingers shook as they shoved down into her warmth. “ _Bellamy,_ ” It spilled from her lips in a needy whisper.

“Jesus, princess,” he muttered, and her hips jerked unsteadily - towards his voice or the words, she wasn’t sure. He pumped in and out, leaning forward to graze his jaw along her skin, and she gasped, her head falling to his shoulder. _Okay, he definitely knows,_ she thought absently. But the slight change in angle had made her aware of the hard press of his length under her, and she suddenly needed to get her hands on him right away.

With some effort, she lifted her head and wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Wait,” she requested, and he stopped immediately.

“What? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” she smiled and kissed him softly. “But I want to touch you.” She pouted when he chuckled, shoving his shoulder. Obediently, he removed his hand from her pants, taking his sweet time licking his fingers, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Asshole,” Clarke muttered, fumbling with his shirt. Once it was off, she pushed him to lie back. She was all too eager to explore him with the same devotion. Bellamy’s hands splayed on her waist as she kissed a trail down his neck and along the dips and curves of the muscles in his torso. Licking a line down his sternum, she peeked up to find his eyes shut tight.

She was struck by an idea all of a sudden - one she’d never actually considered before but something that made her whole body throb in agreement now with the boy lying under her.

Shushing Bellamy’s protest, she moved off him and yanked off the rest of her clothes. Then she shifted so that she was facing the foot of the bed, knees level with his shoulders. Bellamy was watching her curiously, a finger trailing along her spine. Taking a deep breath, she flung a leg over his face. His low groan vibrated into her thigh seconds before he plunged his tongue into her warmth. Clarke arched back with a strangled noise of her own, her hips automatically rotating over his mouth, greedily taking pleasure. The scratch of the coarse hairs along his jaw were only compounding the delicious sensations. When Bellamy’s hands wrapped firmly around her legs, she remembered her original mission and began, with no small effort, to crawl down his body, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

He twitched in her hand, warm and hard. His tongue faltered. “Clarke-” he began hoarsely.

She leaned forward to take a long, slow lick up his length, grinning when she felt multiple curses whispered into her skin. Wiggling her hips unashamedly, she continued to pump him with her hand until he buried his mouth in her cunt with a renewed vigor. Stifling her gasp into his hip, she returned the favor by closing her lips over him and sucking. His fingers dug imprints into her thighs. 

The pleasure was all-consuming, and she could barely focus on her task with the way his tongue was swirling around relentlessly. She continued to bob her head, taking more of him in and putting her own tongue to use, rewarded by the way his hips jerked upwards each time. Her hand worked the base of his cock while she licked at his silky tip until the pressure intensified low in her cunt. After that, it was all she could do not to accidentally bite his anatomy and instead shift her head to sink her teeth into her palm. 

“Bellamy,” she whimpered helplessly.

He continued to fuck her with his tongue, making his own appreciative noises against her flesh that only drove her over the edge that much faster. Her free hand twisted into the bedsheet, mouth open in a silent cry as the wave of pleasure peaked. Shaking, she pressed her forehead into his thigh as she came, her hand wrapped tightly around his thick cock but unable to do much else while she got her breath back. 

Then, suddenly, Bellamy was tossing her leg to the other side and she heard a faint crinkling before he crawled to meet her face to face. She forced her eyes open to find him hovering over her, a hand stroking her hair while his mouth found hers for a sweet kiss. Her muscles clenched involuntarily at the taste of herself on his lips. 

“I fucking love you,” Bellamy murmured into her neck.

Smiling, Clarke kissed his curls, then his forehead, her lips trailing down his face until they met his, unhurried and gentle.

Her other hand came up to trace the sharp line of his jaw, covered in that infuriating stubble, the small groove in his chin, the arch of his cheekbones. Bellamy was entirely still under her curious fingers. His eyes drifted shut until she began to slowly outline his lips, and then he uttered a shaky breath. When she was done he pressed soft kisses to her fingertips, making her smile again.

“I want to draw you,” she said. He finally opened his eyes.

“Any chance you can wait a little longer?” He asked roughly.

Laughing, she nodded fervently until their lips met again. His mouth was like coming home, warm and coaxing and so familiar. A low groan emitted from the back of her throat and he pulled her closer, sheathing himself inside her in one fluid motion. Her back curved, ankles locking behind his back to take him in as far as possible.

Looking up, she drank in the sight of him, his mouth swollen and cheeks warm as he looked at her like she was the only other person alive on the planet. And maybe, right now, she was looking back the same way.

Slanting his mouth over hers, he began to move. It wasn’t long before his tongue pushed urgently past her lips to mimic his increasingly harder thrusts. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, finally winding around his back to hold him close, wanting to be surrounded entirely by him and only him.

At her whimper, his thumb brushed over her clit, stubbled jaw dragging over her chest, and suddenly it was like the the fuse inside her had been lit, the spark traveling out from her center with a fury until her world shattered. Clarke unraveled with her face pressed into his neck, legs squeezing his hips like a vise. Bellamy drove up harder, his grunts sounding in her ear until he shuddered, his arms curled tightly around her.

Still joined, they laid in place for a few moments, simply holding each other. Eventually Bellamy turned to his side, bringing her with him. With a small sigh, Clarke curled into his side and kissed his shoulder.

When she began to shiver after a few minutes, he sat up to yank the comforter out from under them while she threw his briefs at him and crawled into his shirt once more. The oversized material covered her body, encasing her in a cocoon of warmth as Bellamy tucked her under his arm again.

Clarke looked up and giggled. “We’re upside down,” she whispered, laughing into his shoulder.

His smirk was all male satisfaction. “Damn right we are,” he replied, and she couldn’t even be mad about it.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Clarke's MCAT is pretty eventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as I managed to cook, do laundry, and finish 2 out of 3 assignments for class, I'm calling today successful in adulting. So here's a chapter, lol :) same thing applies as last time - about 50% sex, the latter half. Hope you enjoy!

The morning of Clarke’s MCAT, Bellamy was wide awake before the sun even came up. It wasn’t entirely intentional; he’d just gotten so used to sleeping beside Clarke that the first night in his empty bed wasn’t exactly welcoming. But after dinner with her and Octavia the prior evening, he’d firmly promised to see her after the exam, and kissed her good night.

He understood the need to be surrounded by familiar things in light of such a high-stress day. Everything Clarke would need in the early morning was in her apartment. Last-minute flashcards, bus schedule, her ID, all the #2 pencils in the world. Clothes. There were an alarming number of rules about the dress code - he'd seen the list of things she could and could not bring taped to the inside of just about every notebook during the past few weeks. Just one of the many strict regulations to be followed for this test. They'd also gone on a quick trip for snacks, making sure she had enough energy bars and Chex mix to survive the three-and-a-half hour exam, when she was allowed on a break between sections.

There was a lot to think about, and Clarke being Clarke, she was overthinking it to her usual degree. He knew she needed to use the night to get her head on straight, to just stop and breathe with only herself.

So he’d told her to do exactly that. He just hadn’t anticipated not knowing what to do with himself upon returning to his own place alone.

Now, he allowed himself ten more minutes of lying under the covers, then gave up on sleep altogether and slowly rolled out of bed. Heading to the kitchen, he started up the coffeemaker, deciding to make the usual full pot anyways since he definitely wasn’t about to go back to sleep. When it beeped, he glanced at the clock. 6:12a.m. Yeah, she’d be wide awake by now.

He sent her a quick text. _Knock ‘em dead, princess._

Clarke’s reply was almost instantaneous. _You’re up?_

_Couldn’t sleep._

_Nightmares???_

Before he could even answer, the phone began to ring. “Hey,” Bellamy was chuckling as he picked it up. “Do you ever stop thinking about everyone else, Clarke?”

“I always think about you,” she replied. God, he wished he could see her face. Even in his head he could picture her pink cheeks and shy smile.

“Can’t say I have a problem with that,” he teased. “Are you sticking out your tongue right now?”

A pause, then: “No.”

“Liar,” he sang, hearing her tiny laugh on the other end. Heading back into the kitchen, he grabbed his red mug from the cupboard. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Alright. I don’t like sleeping without you,” she mumbled, and his heart swelled.

“Me either, princess. So how many cups of coffee have you had by now?”

“Three,” she sighed. “Debating the fourth.”

“Wow, so you’re taking it easy then huh?”

“Shut up,” she groused. “I just don’t want to be thinking about my bladder instead of the test questions.”

Bellamy grinned, stirring sugar into his coffee. “Fair enough. When’s your bus?”

“Six forty-seven. Or six fifty-seven if I miss the first one. It should only take about twelve minutes to get there, but figured I’d play it safe just in case.” As Clarke paused, he tried not to chuckle at her pinpoint precision. “Stop laughing at me,” she admonished in the next second, and this time the laugh did escape.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“Love you too Bell.” She sighed softly. “I should probably-”

“Go,” he finished with her. “Text me if you need to.”

Her voice was too small for his liking when she only said, “Okay.”

“Clarke, hey. You can do this,” he said firmly. “Remember, you put up with me for _months_ even though you couldn’t even stand to be in the same room. Compared to that, the rest is cake.”

This time her laugh sounded a bit stronger. “You do have a habit of making things difficult.”

“And yet you won me over.” _More like got me wrapped around your finger with no chance of ever moving._ “So go kick some ass, princess.”

“Bye, Bellamy.” There was a smile in her voice when she hung up.

Bellamy grinned to himself and poured a new cup of coffee, having already downed the first cup, before settling in to count the hours while he pretended to write his paper.

~~~~~~~~

Stepping off the bus, Clarke came to a standstill in front of the double doors. The early morning air was chilly, the wind whipping hair around her face, but she barely noticed. Her nerves were at an all-time high as she thought about what awaited on the other side. She closed her eyes and took a few long breaths, a hand curling into the strap of her bag.

This was happening. Everything she’d been working for the past few months - the past few _years_ \- was coming to a head today. She’d always known it would lead here, but the weight of it hadn’t truly begun to settle in until recently, and now her shoulders almost hunched with the burden.

 _Griffin, for the love of god, nut up or shut up._ Raven’s voice echoed in her head from last night, unexpected but not unwelcome. 

_She’s right, for once._ That was Octavia, wry but understanding. _You’ve got this._

Clarke’s eyes opened. Her dad had always said life would throw obstacles in her path - it was her choice whether to circumvent or slam right into them. Smiling slightly, she released a long breath. No more avoiding. Her future was here. 

One final check at her phone showed a waiting text. Bellamy. 

_Come on, princess. You really gonna let some words on a page get you all frazzled?_

Her shoulders automatically straightened as she lifted an eyebrow. Oh, he was one to talk, staring at those blank applications with that pensive expression and a pencil between his teeth, brow all furrowed like it was the end of the world even though she’d _told him--_

She sniggered suddenly. Damn. He was good. 

_Speak for yourself,_ she sent back, then switched off her phone and stepped inside.

~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, Clarke rubbed her neck and rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen her muscles. After sitting at that little desk in the same cramped position for so long, every muscle was pretty much stuck. The exam had gone as expected - that was, annoyingly tedious and difficult - but she could at least say for certain she’d given it everything she had, and then some. Her mind was still tripping over circuits and respiratory mechanisms and electron orbitals as she pulled her bag from the small locker and handed the key over to the desk clerk.

Exiting the room, she let herself sag against the wall for a brief moment, her eyes drifting shut. A smile crossed her face.

She’d done it. After the months of endless studying and a heck of a lot of hoping, she’d done it. All that was left to do was wait.

Feeling lighter than she had in weeks, she eagerly hit the button for the elevator. Once she was out, she strode down the hall and into the main foyer of the huge building that took up almost the entire city block. Pausing at the top of the steps, she dug around for her phone and turned it on, but was immediately distracted by the tall figure who was leaning against the banister.

Beaming, she ran down the steps and threw herself into Bellamy’s waiting arms, laughing with him. “I did it!” She sloppily kissed his cheek and any other part of him she could reach before laying her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I did it, Bell.”

“Knew you would,” he replied, clutching her fiercely. “I’m so proud of you.”

They stayed entwined for a couple more minutes until Bellamy finally pulled back to slant his mouth over hers. When he bent her back into a slight dip, she squeaked and hung onto his shoulders, giggling into the kiss. Finally he grinned and let her up, and she wound her arm around his back with a happy sigh as they left.

“So I think you deserve a day off after all this,” Bellamy said. “What do you want to do, princess? Consider the world your oyster.”

Clarke tugged on his jacket until he leaned down. _”Our_ oyster,” she corrected, and kissed him again. “Let’s go to Fitler Park. It’s been too long since I saw the fountain.”

They took their time strolling along the busy city sidewalks, for once not in a hurry, content to be _that_ couple lost in their bubble while the world rushed on around them. Upon reaching the park, she took a moment to stop in front of the large fountain. A trio of angels stood in the center, their green wings glinting in the sunlight. Water rushed from their mouths in three directions, splashing into the fountain. Digging in her pocket, Clarke flipped a penny into the water, smiling when Bellamy did the same. They stopped at a food truck for some specialty gyros and settled on a bench to consume their meal. 

“So I got a letter today,” Bellamy said after a little while. Clarke looked up to find his gaze already on her, overly cautious. “It was from Chester University.” 

Her eyes widened at the name. It was one of schools he’d applied to last month. Hurriedly, she set aside her food. “And you waited until _now_ to tell me??” He shrugged, smiling, but the hesitance remained in his eyes. Clarke tugged on his collar. _“Well?”_

He put his hand over hers, brushing a kiss over her knuckles before weaving their fingers together. 

“I’m in, Clarke,” he said, unable to hide his awe.

She shrieked and flung her arms around him, laughing happily. “Bellamy, that’s incredible! I knew you would do it.” He sighed and hugged her close. “This is just the beginning,” she whispered. “Didn’t I tell you everyone’s going to want you?”

Bellamy chuckled into her ear. “You did.” When he drew back, though, he still looked nervous, and she couldn’t fathom why. Cradling his cheek, she waited for him to get his thoughts in order. “I just… it’s nearly four hours away, Clarke.”

Oh. So that’s what he was so concerned about. She smiled and shook her head, leaning up to kiss him soundly. “You idiot. You just got into grad school and you’re worried about _that?”_

“Shouldn’t I be? Clarke, you know how important you are to me, I’m not just gonna-”

She cut him off with another kiss, a little more insistent and biting. “I’m right here, Bellamy. It’s going take a lot more than crossing state lines to get rid of me. Besides, there’s a couple med schools up there too. They were on my list already, but this is just icing on the cake.” 

He nodded, his posture slowly easing. “It’s not like it was my first choice or anything, but still… it’s nice to know I have a spot somewhere.”

“I know.” She smiled, wanting to reassure him. “We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

Bellamy sighed and finally returned her smile hopefully. “Yeah. We will.” He pecked her cheek lightly, and she laid her head on his shoulder as he stretched his legs out and got comfortable on the bench. Absently, she nosed the material of his shirt. 

After a few minutes of silence, she said without thinking, “Besides, 237 miles isn’t that bad. I’m sure I could get there in less-”

“How’d you know that?” Bellamy interrupted. Puzzled, she glanced up to find a sly smile playing on his lips. He lifted an eyebrow. “237 miles?”

 _Oh. Oops._ Clarke chewed her lip, then glared, suddenly defensive. “Ever heard of Google?”

Bellamy’s mouth curled into a devastating grin. “You looked it up,” he whispered, nudging her nose with his. She flushed, unable to handle the adoration in his voice.

“You know using Google isn’t rocket science,” she mumbled, and he laughed, loud and joyful.

“You looked it up,” he repeated, and didn’t stop smiling the rest of the afternoon.

~~~~~~~~

When they finally got back to Bellamy’s apartment, Clarke was more than happy to collapse on his bed. Bellamy chuckled and dropped his bag on the floor before clambering up beside her. Ignoring her soft protests, he eased her into a sitting position and then pulled her back against his chest, cradling her between his knees. His strong hands came to rest on her shoulders, lightly digging into the knots they found there.

She groaned softly, her head drooping forward. Bellamy’s fingers became more insistent, relentlessly kneading away at the tense skin. Clarke knew she was probably letting out all sorts of strange sounds, but his hands felt so damn good she really couldn’t care about that at the moment. All she could feel was the tension melting off and making her limbs feel rubbery and loose until she wanted nothing more than to curl up right there.

Then Bellamy moved his hands down her sides, coming to rest at her waist. His lips ghosted along the curve of her neck, the touch light and fleeting until she murmured incoherently and pressed back against him. Slowly, his hands slipped under her shirt to caress her skin, making her sigh.

Restraint having fled long ago, she murmured, “You know this one question reminded me of you during the test.”

“Oh yeah?” Bellamy’s whisper was warm and curious at her ear. “How so?”

“It was about the angle of an iliac crest affecting the the proximity of vessels and nerves that run through from torso to extremities. And all I could think about was _your_ iliac crest,” she huffed. At his surprised laugh, she elbowed him. “Bellamy! It’s not funny. I had to sit there for the last half hour trying to get you out of my head!”

He was smiling when he nuzzled her cheek. “Still, it’s kind of funny, you have to admit,” he said. “Remind me what the iliac crest is again?”

In response Clarke put her hands over his, guiding them up and down her hipbones to outline the anatomical structure. He continued of his own volition, the curious touch turning into purposeful long strokes that had her squirming.

“I see.” His teeth trapped her earlobe for a few seconds, and then he whispered, “What exactly do you like about that?”

“I…” She was breathless at the thought of saying it out loud. “I like the weight of you over me. The way you just-- fit.”

Bellamy’s mouth curved against her ear, pleased. “I like that too.”

She hummed and tipped her head back, silently asking him to continue. His hands lazily stroked the expanse of her stomach, occasionally tiptoeing to the edge of her bra before retreating. Her chest heaved with each shortened breath, her skin flushed.

“Bellamy,” she sighed. 

His wordless murmur of agreement made her mind go hazy. “Is this what you were thinking about during the test?” He asked, low and deep.

“Mhmm. I wanted you atop me, fucking me into the bed,” she replied lowly, arching into his hands. Air rushed out in a harsh breath on her skin. 

“Damn, Clarke.”

Twisting in his grip, she stripped off her shirt and bra, then wound her arms around his neck in a demanding kiss. When she finally let go, she said, “Right now I want to fuck you.”

“By all means,” he choked out, and crushed his lips to hers again. The material of his shirt scraped against her bare chest, creating wonderful friction that had her pressing closer and moaning into his mouth. Bellamy grunted and palmed the swell of her ass, grinding her down overtop him until she was gasping. Swearing, she tore her mouth away.

“Clothes _off,”_ she managed, nearly throwing herself in the opposite direction and wiggling out of her jeans.

When she’d succeeded, she looked over to find Bellamy shirtless but fiddling with his belt buckle. It wasn’t long before she knocked his hands aside - “You’re taking too long” - and shoved his pants down enough, eager fingers reaching for his hard length.

“Princess-” He groaned harshly.

“Condom,” she ground out. He shuddered as her fingers twisted, but somehow manage to grab one while her mouth found his for a biting kiss. She sank down on as soon as it was on, sighing in both relief and pleasure as he filled her up. When Bellamy tried to rise, she pushed him to lie on his back, pressing his hands to her waist instead. He exhaled and looked up at her, eyes hooded and mouth bitten red.

The sight made her lick her own lips before she gave an experimental roll of her hips. He swore loudly. Grinning, she did it again, deliberately slow. A litany of nonsense spilled from his mouth as his fingers clutched her hips hard enough to bruise.

“Clarke-” He said her name again, a plea, and she took that as her cue to begin rocking atop him, her hands braced on his chest. It didn’t take her long to find the rhythm she wanted. Bellamy’s eyes drifted shut, a vein straining his his neck as he arched under her. A rush of need shot straight to her cunt, making her muscles clench.

The sunlight streaming through the window cast streaks over Bellamy’s wild curls, making them shimmer where they dropped over his face. When his eyes opened, he smiled up at her, somehow affectionate and longing all at once. Once again, she was struck by how much she loved this boy, and it made her lean forward until her mouth crashed into his, the kiss flooded with want. Bellamy’s hands soon settled on the curve of her ass, increasing her pace until Clarke whimpered and tucked her face into his shoulder.

The mattress creaked as she ground into him with a singular purpose, unable to control her breathing any longer. Bellamy’s harsh pants sounded in her ear, forming her name, which only sent her own desire into overdrive that much faster. He met her her thrust for thrust, his hips beginning to piston rapidly. Spurred on by her soft cries and the slap of flesh, their movements turned sloppy.

One of Bellamy’s hands shifted to where they were joined, rubbing tiny circles that made her legs squeeze his waist with ungodly force as she came with a sharp, surprised cry. Bellamy pushed into her with a final few thrusts, muffling his moan into her neck as she pulsed around him.

They laid tangled together for a few minutes, panting heavily. His tongue snuck out to taste the sweat on her skin and she hummed softly, content to remain sprawled half atop him for the remainder of the evening.

~~~~~~~~~

It was late that night when Bellamy tugged her outside, his backpack hanging off one shoulder. “Where are we going?” She asked again. 

“You’ll see,” came the casual reply. She huffed and folded her arms, grumpy at having had to redress and leave the warm cocoon of his covers. Bellamy noticed her sour mood and tossed an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while, princess.” 

She frowned but snuggled against his chest anyways. The sun was almost gone, turning the sky into a murky grey as evening became night. It looked a lot like muddy water, she thought. How fitting, for her current state.

Not paying attention, she was surprised when Bellamy came to a stop in front of a pair of glass doors. As he dug around in his jacket pocket, she looked up at the building in front of them. 

_Holy shit._

Her irritation vanished, replaced by a tingling anticipation that swept through her body in a dizzy rush and left her knees wobbly.

They were at the library. At night.

Bellamy’s arms wrapped around her from behind, ID card flashing in his palm. “You know princess,” he murmured, “we never got to finish that story of yours.” Suddenly turning her chin towards him, he kissed her hotly, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Taken by surprise at the change of pace, she couldn’t do much more than moan and try to reply in kind. 

Grinning, he released her all too quickly, weaving their fingers together as he swiped the card at the entrance. Clarke tried and failed to work moisture back in to her mouth, fumbling for her own card. The library was hushed, quiet, as they stepped inside. Only a few people remained, idling near the computers or at the large tables.

There was a sign posted to the front desk - closing at 9p.m. She glanced at her watch. 8:23. 

Her pulse flailed wildly as they headed up the stairs. Bellamy sent her a wicked grin that made her blood sing, purposely ignoring the second floor and heading straight for the third. Tension coiled in the pit of her belly as they passed numerous bookshelves until they were in a back corner. 

When her eyes traveled over some of the volume titles, she grinned in delight, forgetting her nerves for a moment. _“Decline and Fall of The Roman Empire? The History of the Peloponnesian War?_ You picked this spot on purpose!”

“Of course I did,” Bellamy replied, dropping his backpack to the floor. “I should at least sound like I know what I’m talking about in the event I have to pretend I’m not making out with my girlfriend.”

“Just making out?” Clarke’s giggle was cut off by his lips on hers as he crowded her against the shelf. 

“You tell me, princess,” Bellamy’s eyes were molten as they pierced hers. “What exactly goes on in the library?”

 _Jesus._ So that’s how this was going to go. Her legs pressed together of their own accord while her lungs tried to regain function. There was something so strangely intimate about this, despite the location - maybe because of it. There was no one else she'd ever let this little tidbit slip to; no one else she could imagine fulfilling it. When she couldn’t seem to formulate a response, Bellamy put his lips at her ear.

“I want to know. Am I using my hands? Or do you want me on my knees?”

 _Holy god._ “Fuck, Bellamy,” she whispered. 

Grinning deviously, he replied, “Save that for later.” She was hopelessly turned on, and he knew it. As he nipped lightly along her jaw, she felt a fresh wetness gather in her panties. “Come on,” he urged. His hands ghosted along her arms in a caress. “You can tell me, Clarke.”

It was the implicit trust in his words that gave her the courage to speak up. “I- we’re in the back, between the bookshelves.” Okay, so that was obvious, but she needed to start somewhere. “Y-you’ve got your hand shoved down my pants and the other around my waist.”

Without preamble, his hand unbuttoned her jeans, sliding over her damp underwear. She barely bit back her moan, her eyes drifting shut. “Keep going,” he said roughly.

“I… _ah,_ god, um, I can feel the spines of the books digging into my forehead,” she said without thinking. The hand in her jeans paused, considering, and she nearly wept. 

Then Bellamy spun her to face the books, wedging a knee between her legs. He slid his arms over hers, placing hers on the shelf with a silent squeeze. Her fingers curled around the chestnut wood. _Jesus. How did he know…?_

Her breaths came ragged as his fingers slipped back in to tease. She felt him harden further against her back. His free hand traveled to do as she’d described, splaying over her stomach. Bellamy laid gentle kisses under her ear, the occasional touch of his tongue sending small shocks through her body. His fingers crept lower. Trembling, she rocked against him in agreement. 

“Patience,” he said, his mouth clearly fighting a smile. Clarke frowned and tilted her hips again, trying and failing to urge him on. He stifled another chuckle, merely dropping lazy kisses along her shoulder. She wriggled in his grasp, her head lolling to one side. 

“Tell me how you feel, Clarke.”

She leaned forward, her head drooping. “Good, so fucking good,” she panted and closed her eyes again. _Good_ was an understatement, but, well, she was kind of proud to be forming sentences at all currently. She had a white-knuckled grip on the shelf at this point.

Then the faint echo of voices reached her ears, and she stiffened. To Bellamy’s credit, his fingers didn’t even stutter, instead dipping to tease her curls. Her knees automatically opened wider.

“That turn you on?” He asked lowly. “The idea that anyone could hear? Someone could walk around the corner right now and see us?” 

Rather than answer, Clarke turned her face into the crook of her elbow. Her hips rolled, begging, and he complied by easing his hand down further, fingers circling her slick warmth. She was _dripping,_ and the touch of his rough fingertip only made it worse.

“ _Shit,_ Clarke.” Bellamy bit down on the curve of her neck and she gasped. His tongue soothed the area a second later, though she was well aware that it would leave a mark. Something that they both appeared to have a penchant for. “Have you ever told anyone else about this?”

“Of course not,” she snapped, though the effect was ruined by her breathy voice. “You should know better. Unless…” She bit her lip and rubbed her backside against him, rewarded by a low groan. “Does that turn _you_ on?”

This time when he sank his teeth into her skin, it was on purpose. God, his possessive streak was far too appealing.

“Continue,” he ordered gruffly.

Clarke couldn't hear the voices anymore; not that she cared, too busy trying to draw his fingers in deeper. “You keep leaving hickeys even when I tell you not to,” she breathed, and he choked out a laugh. Desperate, she began to plead. “God, Bellamy, _please--”_

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he demanded.

She placed a hand over his and moved it up to her breast, unable to form words any longer. Bellamy immediately squeezed the flesh, tweaking the nipple through the fabric of her shirt. A strangled sound emerged from her throat when he did it again.

Reaching back, Clarke curled an arm around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. She moaned softly as he kneaded and tugged at her breasts until they were aching for his mouth. Her hips bucked again. Bellamy’s finger was already good and wet when he gave in and sank it inside her. Her back arched as her inner muscles clenched around him. She uttered a soft cry.

Bellamy cradled her cheek until he could meet her glassy eyes. He looked nearly as wrecked as she felt. “What do you need?”

“More, more of this,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his hair.

Bellamy let her hips pump wildly against his finger as his mouth caught hers, tongue invading purposefully. The way his hand was trapped within her jeans made him bump her clit with each thrust, sending shocks of pleasure up her spine. He added a second finger and quickened his pace, making her grind against his hand with a barely contained sob.

“Bell, please-” Clarke panted. His thumb pressed down on her clit, drawing a broken sound from her mouth, and when he crooked his digits inside her in that way he knew she liked, she fell apart entirely, his name tumbling from her lips.

She sagged back against him, trembling as her lungs heaved to gulp in air. Bellamy’s free arm closed around her shoulder, drawing her close as he soothed a hand over her hair. Her head drooped against his chest. Slowly, he eased his fingers out and licked them clean, and she felt her need burn sharply as she raised hazy eyes to follow the motion.

When she could speak again, all that came out was, “I swear to god I’m going to find you a beach."

Bellamy laughed long and hard, then fit his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss that seemed to go on forever.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy helps Clarke during a rough time and gets to be a French girl in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did not mean to start a pattern, but as with the prior two, second half is sex. This officially concludes that trifecta lol. Much more fluff to come, of course. Hope you enjoy! :)

Bellamy leaned against the old brick building, his foot tapping impatiently on the pavement. Earlier in the morning, he had texted Clarke to meet him here, reluctant to offer any information aside from the address. She’d agreed without hesitation, even though he could practically feel her curiosity gnawing through the phone.

Now he stood waiting nervously. His palms were sweaty and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. This was a rough week for Clarke. He knew that. He’d watched her pretending not to mark the days on her calendar, watched her withdraw into herself just a little day by day, even though she tried to pretend it was no big deal. 

“Why should I be more upset on just one day of the year?” Clarke had said once. “I miss dad every single day. I shouldn’t let one day hog all the attention.”

Bellamy knew she wasn’t just saying that; she genuinely believed it. But he also knew that sadness didn’t particularly care about logic or practicality. It just stormed in whether you were ready or not. So, impulsively, he’d gone to his boss Sam to hash out the idea that had been lingering in his mind for some time. And now he was here, waiting for Clarke and praying she wouldn’t punch him for it. His fingers ran over the cool metal of the two silver keys in his pocket.

When her familiar figure rounded the corner, he could already see the wheels turning in her head. Clarke’s shrewd eyes took in every detail of the building behind him, the quiet street block, and finally him standing against the wall. 

“Hi.” She smiled curiously.

“Hey. Thanks for coming.” He kissed her cheek and threaded his fingers through hers.

“Of course.” Her gaze wandered past him. “What is this place?”

“Come and see.” He took out the keys and opened the first heavy door, ushering her inside. They ventured slowly up the steps. The place was dark and musty, but not in a bad way. More like an intimate, private kind of way. He liked places like this, ones that felt like secret hideouts in plain sight. On the second floor, Bellamy counted the doors to his left until he hit the fifth one. The second key twisted in the lock and he slid the large door open, stepping aside to let Clarke in first.

She took only two steps, then stopped instantly, eyes widening. He heard the small whoosh as the breath left her in surprise. After a long moment in which _he_ practically stopped breathing, she glanced over her shoulder as if to confirm it was real. He gave a small nod and what he hoped was a reassuring smile, urging her forward.

Clarke walked inside reverently, awe stamped over her features. She took in the easels, the paintbrushes and tins of color, the black charcoal smudged everywhere. A thick stack of blank paper and canvases sat to the side, the empty easels waiting for her to fill the pages. Two large windows overlooked the street. Bellamy fumbled for the small switch, illuminating a single bulb in the center of the studio. There was silence for several moments as Clarke slowly wandered around the room, her fingers brushing gently against the canvas, circling the rims of the paint cans. She took a deep, shaky breath.

When she finally turned back to him, her eyes were bright, the emotions flashing across her features too fast for him to process.

“It’s yours,” he said immediately. Her lips parted in surprise and he rushed on, suddenly tripping over his own words to explain. “Just for the week. It’s all we could get. Sam knows a guy who works here, and usually he rents out the studio during the term, but he said he’s fine with you using it at night before the students come back. If you want to.” He swallowed.

Clarke was staring at him like he’d just told her the sky was red and the Earth was square. “You… you did this?”

“It was mostly Sam. I just asked if it was possible, and then we made a few calls.” Bellamy licked his lips nervously. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. I just thought… I thought maybe you might need it. It’s here, in any case.”

He fiddled uncertainly with the keys in his hands, trying to gauge her reaction. Then Clarke crossed the room to stand in front of him. Her hand came up to cradle his cheek. He dropped a kiss in her palm, placing his hand over hers.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she said.

_Of course I did. I’d do anything for you. _The words flashed through his head, and then they were out of his mouth before he could take them back. He didn’t want to take them back.__

__Clarke gazed up in wonder before wrapping her arms around him. Her kiss was salty from the tears that dripped down her cheeks, but it only made him hold her tighter._ _

__~~~~~~~~~_ _

__She used the small studio every night that week. Bellamy came with her three times, at her insistence._ _

__The first night was rough, as he’d expected. For several long minutes, Clarke simply walked around the studio again, pausing now and then to breathe deeply, her eyes closing as she basked in the moment. But third time she did so, he caught the quiver of her chin that told him she was trying very hard not to break, and he was by her side in seconds._ _

__Carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder. A small hiccup reached his ears. When he turned her to face him, there were twin clear tracks already racing down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. There was no hesitation then - he just gathered her into his arms, crooning softly into her ear while she clung to him, the hiccups turning to gasps and unintelligible words._ _

__Bellamy eased them to the floor, cradling Clarke in his lap, letting her tears soak into his skin until her breathing slowed, and her body didn’t shake quite so strongly. When her fingers finally uncurled from his shirt, he looked down and saw what she’d been gripping so tightly in one hand - several broken pieces of pastel._ _

__“His favorite,” he remembered._ _

__Clarke nodded and sniffled, brushing a sleeve over her eyes. “I miss him so much, Bellamy.” She sighed. “Some days, I remember the good things and I think, at least I had those, you know? And then other days, it’s like it hits me all over again, that he’s never going to see me graduate, or meet you and O--”_ _

__The words cut off again, and he pressed his lips to her forehead in understanding. “I know,” was all he said, because he did, and there was nothing else to say. All he could do was promise she wasn’t going to be alone in dealing with it._ _

__A little later, he tilted her chin up. “Tell me more about him.”_ _

__The words came hesitantly at first, her voice dipping and catching every few words as she told him about the first time her dad had brought her into his studio. The way she'd been practically hypnotized by the swirl of colors that soon took the form of a coherent, lifelike picture, and begged him to do another. Once she got that story out, it was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly the tales were pouring out one after the other._ _

__How he came to every single one of her dance recitals when she was young even though she was the worst dancer there. (Bellamy doubted that last bit, but he let it go for the time being.) How he would sometimes bring her into the studio when she couldn’t sleep at night until she fell asleep to the sound of pastel sweeping along paper. How he’d surprised her with her first paint set on her seventh birthday, telling her it was never too soon for an artist to start their masterpiece. How he’d supported all her scientific endeavors without ever telling her she had to choose between her two loves._ _

"You know, even when I came home super excited about science and the things I'd learned in school that day, he sat there and listened to all of it even though he didn't understand it. And then he told me to draw it for him." She sniffed. "Even to this day, I draw out all the anatomical structures, the pathways. It's... it helps me learn, but it's also just so comforting. Like I'm explaining it to him all over again."

__After Clarke’s words eventually trailed off, she sank into him a little further, content to lay her head on his chest and just sit, surrounded by memories. They remained in the same spot for a long time, the descending sun casting shadows through the window and glinting off the tin paints until finally night took over like a blanket._ _

__It was nearly midnight when they finally stood to leave. Clarke put all but one of the pastels back, keeping one in her pocket. Then she stretched to her tiptoes and grabbed him in a fierce hug._ _

__“Thank you,” she whispered. Her fingers bunched in the cloth of his shirt. Bellamy didn’t reply, just returning the hold with equal force. He kept his arm around her as they headed downstairs, only letting go when he had to lock up the place properly._ _

__The bark of laughter was so abrupt and loud in the stillness that he jumped a mile high._ _

__Whirling around, he found Clarke doubled over with glee, clutching her stomach. In between wheezing breaths, she pointed at him, then burst into new giggles all over again. “You… you-” She couldn’t form the thought for a few minutes, simply laughing, and Bellamy found himself smiling even though he had no idea why._ _

__Finally, she put her hands on her knees to steady herself, then beckoned him closer. “I think you were sitting on some used canvas that wasn’t fixed. Your butt looks like a rainbow!”_ _

__“What?” With a chuckle, he twisted, trying to get a look, until Clarke tugged him over to a shop window. In the reflection, his backside was a swirl of colors. He let out an astonished laugh of his own while Clarke giggled beside him. Grinning, he put his arms around her. “I dunno princess, I think that makes it better. Don’t you?”_ _

__She was still laughing when she pulled his mouth down to hers._ _

__~~~~~~~~~_ _

__The second time they went back, he simply sat to the side and watched Clarke lose herself in the colors and charcoal. She was silent for most of it, almost contemplative as she filled sheet after sheet with pieces of her imagination. Now and then he caught her quickly dabbing the corner of her eye, but mostly she just let herself feel, putting everything onto the paper in front of her. At the end of it, she seemed to come out of a daze, her body relaxed in peace as she sent him a grateful smile._ _

__The third time he accompanied her, she shyly requested to draw him._ _

__Bellamy looked over in surprise. It was the last night of the studio rental; he’d figured she would want to keep the time to herself. When he said as much, Clarke grasped his hand and tugged him closer. “I've had most of the week to myself. Besides, don’t you want to be one of my French girls?”_ _

__He grinned at the teasing remark, pleased she’d remembered. “I’d love to,” he replied honestly. “But remember, I’m classy. I won’t just strip on command.”_ _

__She laughed and kissed him. “I love you.”_ _

__He dropped his forehead to hers. “Love you too,” he whispered._ _

__She sighed. “I’ll never tire of hearing that.”_ _

__“Good, because I’m never going to stop saying it.” To prove his point, he murmured it into her skin in between the soft kisses he trailed across her jaw, feeling her sink further into his embrace. But it was when he began to worry the patch of skin behind her ear that she clutched at his arms and pulled away, slightly breathless._ _

__Blue eyes alight, Clarke teased, “You won’t get out of being one of my French girls that easily.” When he grinned, she pointed at the window ledge. “Take a seat.”_ _

__“Should’ve known you’d love ordering me around, princess.” He laughed when she blushed, then flicked paint at him in response. Obediently, he sat down where she’d indicated, waiting as she got herself situated._ _

__“You can just do whatever’s comfortable,” she added belatedly. “Sit however you want, look wherever you want.”_ _

__“I am. I like watching you.”_ _

__That got a smile out of her, and she nodded and picked up her charcoal. He _did_ love watching her, how her forehead would produce that little crease as she squinted between him and the paper, how her tongue sometimes peeked from the corner of her mouth when she tried to get a detail right, how every inch of her body seemed to relax into the motions until she was moving without even thinking, lost in the scratch of charcoal. He could have watched her do so forever._ _

__Bellamy didn’t know how long he sat there, just as lost in Clarke as she was in her sketch. When she blinked and sat back, stretching her limbs, he waited until she crooked a finger at him before slowly ambling over. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, bringing her snug against his chest and pressing a kiss to her shoulder before taking a proper look at the picture in front of him._ _

__The detail was astonishing. He was always amazed by her drawings, but seeing himself reflected back in one was surprising in a whole new light. Clarke had taken her time, down to the shape of his Adam’s apple in his throat to the way his fingers had been tapping on his knee to the faintest lift of his mouth on the left side. It was like finally seeing through her eyes - and he couldn’t quite fathom that the person staring back was him. He never thought anyone would look at him in such a way._ _

__When Clarke shifted to look up at him, he realized he’d been silent for a long time. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he said honestly._ _

__“I hope that’s a good thing,” she replied, and when he heard the nerves creep through her voice he drew her to her feet and planted a long, loving kiss on her mouth before enfolding her in a tight hug._ _

__“It is. It definitely is,” he assured quietly. “Thank you, Clarke. This is incredible.”_ _

__She kissed his cheek before pulling back slightly, her fingers tracing his jaw. “You’re a good subject. Who knew you were capable of sitting still for so long?”_ _

__“You always manage to bring out the best in me,” he teased, nipping lightly at her fingertips. Feeling cheeky, he leaned down like he was going to kiss her, then reached behind her to dip his hand into an open paint can and drew a swift streak of purple across her cheek. Clarke let out an affronted yip - which was the cutest freaking thing ever - then smeared her own charcoal covered hand over his neck in reply._ _

__Neither of them moved for a moment._ _

__Then Clarke lunged for the paint with a delighted little scream, Bellamy laughing as he looped his arms around her easily. While she squirmed, he swiped more paint along her chest above the neckline of her shirt, busying his mouth at the curve of her neck. She sighed and arched against him, a low “cheater,” reaching his ears. He smirked and continued to worry the soft skin until something cool slapped him across the forehead._ _

__Releasing her, he put a hand to his temples and came away with bright blue paint. Clarke giggled and held her colored hands up, fists clenched in mock battle. “Put ‘em up, Blake!"_ _

__His mouth dropped open. “Ohhh, princess,” he grinned. “Now you’ve done it.”_ _

__Clarke merely raised an eyebrow in challenge. Then she flicked paint right at his face, and his eyes closed on instinct. By the time he realized it was a distraction, she was on him, her paint-splattered hands closing wetly on his cheeks, her laugh ringing in his ears before she slipped out of reach. Bellamy caught sight of himself in the window, the bright blue and green fingerprints on his cheeks, and groaned good-naturedly._ _

"So eager to leave your mark, princess?"

__Dipping both hands in the paints this time, he advanced on Clarke, whose glee was quickly fading as she searched for a way out. She darted around him once, but on the second try he managed to grab her by the arm and drag her close, hungrily planting his lips on hers. She went lax in his grip, moaning a little into his mouth. Bellamy put both hands on her jean-covered backside and squeezed, chortling when she shoved him away with a gasp. She twisted awkwardly to try to look at herself. Finally she caught sight of her rear in the glass, her mouth hanging open at the two red and orange handprints firmly pasted on her rear._ _

__He took the time during her shock to smear more paint on his hands, crowding her against a table before she even knew what was happening. One hand went to splay on her neck - green - and the other slipped under her shirt, streaking red across the trembling muscles of her stomach as she clutched at his arms. Her head dropped back, exposing her throat, and he smoothed his lips over her thundering pulse._ _

__“Bell,” Clarke’s whisper was ragged as she drew his head up, a hand twisted into his hair. Her mouth collided with his, greedy and searching, and for a few moments he was lost in it. Then she shifted to nibble along his jaw, her hands wandering with renewed purpose - namely, to remove his shirt. He fumbled to help, then drew hers off as well, sliding his arms around her waist to yank her close once more. Clarke’s hands swarmed his back, and he twitched at the feeling of the cool paint trailing over his muscles. She grinned against his mouth and purposely raked her nails above his waistband._ _

__Grunting, he ducked his head to her shoulder, trapping the skin between his teeth. She gasped and leaned back, pulling him with her as she began to perch on the table. But then one of the legs swayed dangerously, apparently loose._ _

__“Shit!” Clarke squealed and hung onto him as the the table teetered under their weight. With a laugh, Bellamy lifted her off and sank onto a chair with her in his lap. He peppered her face with kisses in between chuckles. She was laughing too, and for a moment just curled her arms around his neck and hugged him._ _

__His arms tightened, and he sighed happily. “Love you,” he murmured._ _

__“Love you back,” Clarke whispered. Gently, her mouth outlined the shell of his ear._ _

__This time when she kissed him, it was slow and sure, igniting a fire in him all the same. Bellamy could have kissed her forever like this, her soft body enfolded in his arms and in no rush to go anywhere. Just kissing and holding this girl he couldn’t imagine his life without._ _

__When Clarke finally tore away to breathe, he shifted his attention to the line of her bare shoulder, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along her creamy skin. She sighed, fingers carding dreamily through his hair, and he hummed in agreement. Nudging aside her purple bra strap, he delicately licked the spot where it had been, occasionally darting lower to the swell of soft flesh before shifting away again. Her movement increased a little, her sighs turning to soft pants as her hips canted against his._ _

__His fingers ran lightly up and down her arms, soothing. He was busy kissing a trail between her breasts when she whimpered and lifted up without warning._ _

__“Hey, wait,” he protested, already trying to follow._ _

__Clarke only grinned and kissed his nose before nudging his pants with her foot. “Off,” she said, wiggling out of her jeans. He gulped, distracted by the sight of her bare legs for a long moment, then hurried to do the same. When he looked up again she’d unlatched her bra as well, and stood before him completely bare aside from the bright swirls of paint he’d left on her. All the moisture left his mouth._ _

__Something about his expression must have unnerved her, because the smile faded as she cradled his face in her hands. “What is it?” She asked._ _

__He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Nothing, I just… I still can’t believe it sometimes.”_ _

__She tilted her head. “Believe what?”_ _

__“That you’re mine,” he breathed. Then his eyes widened. Belatedly, he backtracked. “Ah, I mean, not _mine,_ I know you’re not property or some shit, I just meant-”_ _

__Clarke was laughing when she kissed him again, settling into his lap. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, babe,” she bit his lip with a wink and he about fell in love all over again._ _

"Babe?" He managed to ask, smirking. It wasn't the first time it had slipped out, though the previous occurrences had all been while he was rather occupied with her delectable skin, and so he hadn't had the frame of mind to point it out.

An eyebrow arched even as she blushed, a lovely sight so undeniably _Clarke_ that his heart twisted. "What?" She asked. "You don't like that?" 

"On the contrary," he grinned and fit his mouth to hers.

"Good," she murmured. Then her hand snuck between them, wrapping around his hard length. Bellamy groaned, almost losing his wits right then and there. As it was, nearly let her lower onto him before the realization hit, and then he was gripping her hips hard enough to bruise until she stilled in question.

__“Wait, Clarke… I don’t- I don’t have any-”_ _

__Clarke’s lips cut him off, soft and sweet. “It’s okay,” she said when they parted. “I-I’m on the pill now. That’s what my doctor’s appointment was for last month.” She smiled shyly. “I want you, Bellamy. Just you.”_ _

__He had no choice but to kiss her again, moaning at the contact of his cock against her slick heat. The sensation was almost too overwhelming when she slid down onto him. “Clarke… _fuck--_ ” wrenching his mouth from hers, he buried his face against her shoulder. _ _

__“Indeed,” she said lazily, and he barked out a surprised laugh. His princess would never cease to surprise him. Or turn him on, for that matter._ _

__She rose, torturously slow, then slammed her hips back down in a way that made him swear loudly. Her mouth curved against his forehead, pleased. Then he raised his head to reclaim her smiling lips, letting himself be surrounded by her in every sense. He hadn’t actually thought the condom would make much difference, but now that it was gone, her warmth enveloped him so intimately that he thought he might lose his mind with each stroke. It wasn’t long before the bliss sharpened to something unbearable, and he clutched her a little more desperately, bringing her down harder each time._ _

__Clarke put her lips to his ear. “For the record, I _am_ yours,” she whispered, and his heart all but flung itself out of his chest. Then she kissed him, hot and biting, and said, “And you’re mine.”_ _

__That, and a particular twist of her hips, sent him over the edge, chanting her name. That seemed to be what she’d been waiting for. Her movements became more frantic, and through the daze he murmured into her skin how much he loved her, how he was completely hers, now and always. She keened and clenched around him, her hips a blur, her moan choking off between his name and a curse, and he urged her on until she followed him into oblivion._ _

__~~~~~~~~~_ _

__“You know, this really was not something I ever considered when I rented this studio,” he told her later as they cleaned up._ _

__She grinned, her cheeks still red under all the paint. “Are you complaining?”_ _

__“Hell no.”_ _

__Clarke shook her head, tossing his shirt at him. “Oh my god.” She snorted as she held up her jeans with his clear handprints on the back. “Bell, I _cannot_ walk back in these.”_ _

__Amused, he lifted an eyebrow. “I’m in favor of that.” He grinned as she smacked his shoulder, pulling her arm until she fell against him. “I guess we’ll just have to stay here a bit longer,” he decided._ _

__She didn’t seem to mind._ _


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day trip for the birthday boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not gonna lie, I loved writing this chapter and I'm so freaking excited to finallyyy share it! Really hope you enjoy! :)

“Come _on,_ it’s just a day trip,” Clarke tugged him down the stairs excitedly. “I promise you’re not forgetting anything, now let’s goooo!”

Bellamy laughed and let her pull him along, caught up in her enthusiasm. Ever since Clarke had received her MCAT score - stellar, as he’d expected - she’d been bouncing around with unrestrained glee, and it was infectious. He was thrilled for her. She deserved nothing but the best, something he told her every chance he got. She’d begun filling out med school applications at a furious rate, and he hadn’t even cared about locations, knowing the joy on her face surpassed it all. Whatever the odds were, they’d beat them for sure.

And now, his princess had a surprise in store for him, one she was steadily - and uncharacteristically - keeping quiet about.

Once outside, he came to a stop when he saw the blue car pulled up to the curb. “Wait. I know that car.” He looked over at her smiling face in confusion. “How’d you get Wick to let you borrow it?”

“I asked nicely,” she replied, and he snorted. But she offered no further explanation, only yanking on his hand again and throwing their bags in the backseat before motioning for him to take the passenger side.

“Clarke, where are we going?”

“You’ll see, birthday boy,” she sang. “Come on.”

Grinning, he shook his head but got inside, his nose immediately scrunching as the scent of coffee and pastries wafted into his nostrils. 

“Is that-”

“Krazy Kate’s? Yes. I knew there was no point in hiding it from you.” Clarke pointed to the second coffee in the cupholders before reaching into the backseat. After a moment of digging around, she pulled out a box with a small shout of triumph. “Happy Birthday!”

Smiling, he opened it to find an assortment of breakfast pastries - most notably, a pile of his favorite macadamia cookies and two overly large banana nut muffins that called to him. Clarke laughed at his longing expression, tapping his knee.

“Eat,” she told him. “It’s a bit of a drive.”

Starting the car, she she pulled on her seatbelt, but before doing the same Bellamy leaned over and kissed her hard, satisfied when she moaned and sank her fingers into his hair, keeping their mouths joined for a hell of a lot longer. When he finally did draw back, she blinked. 

“Well. Shit. Give me a second to remember the directions.”

He chuckled, breaking off a piece of the muffin and holding it out to her. She took a few bites, teasingly licking the crumbs from his fingers, before they finally started on their way. He settled back into the seat, unable to take his eyes off her. A smile played on her lips, her fingers tapping along to the radio, and every time she turned to glance in the mirror she caught him staring but only stuck out her tongue. The music played in the background as he studied her, looking for any clue as to where they might be headed.

Pieces of her hair were loosely pulled back in a messy half-knot that was already coming apart, held back only by the dark sunglasses currently resting atop her head. Her mouth was colored in a bright, happy red. She wore an oversized shirt that kept slipping off one shoulder and revealing the dark blue strap of her bra. Now and then he leaned over to kiss that shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows at her half-hearted attempts to push him away. Her long legs were bared in tiny denim shorts, her feet tucked into beige sandals.

“Are you done checking me out?” Clarke asked with a grin.

He sighed. “Not nearly.” 

Her giddy laugh echoed in the small space and a moment later he joined in, knowing she’d give nothing away. Her free hand tangled with his. “Trust me,” she murmured.

“Always do,” he replied, kissing her fingertips.

It wasn’t long before they left the city, and soon they were out on the open highway, driving through miles of greenery. It had been a while since he'd seen something other than concrete and asphalt in every direction. Distracted by the endless scenery around him - and the girl beside him - Bellamy almost didn’t notice when their speed began to slow. Minutes later, they were turning off on an exit and then Clarke had pulled the car onto the shoulder, slowly rolling to a stop. 

Concerned, he looked over. “What is it?” 

She smiled. “Still trust me?” There was the barest hint of caution in her eyes, something he wouldn't have caught if he didn't know her so well. He nodded firmly. “Okay,” she breathed. “We’re really close. Just have to go over the hill, and then a mile down, actually. But…” Clarke chewed her lip for a long moment. “It’s a surprise. So. I need you to close your eyes, and keep them shut.”

Bellamy smiled. “That’s it? I thought you were going to ask me to hide a body or something.” 

Clarke’s laugh chimed loud and bright in the car as she she unlatched her seatbelt and leaned over to kiss him deeply. When she finally drew back, it was only to press her lips to his cheek with a wet smack. 

“Much better,” she said decisively, and he grinned, knowing he likely had a red outline of her lips to show for it.

“Just one thing,” he requested, squeezing her fingers. “Don’t let go, alright?”

“Promise.” She looked over in confirmation one more time as the car started, and he gripped her free hand tightly before closing his eyes. The car started up the incline, slow and steady. By the time they’d crested the top of the hill, Bellamy was barely paying attention. His world had narrowed to the sound of Clarke singing softly along with the radio, her thumb stroking over his skin.

The smooth road became bumpy, and soon gravel crunched beneath the wheels. Keeping his word, his eyes stayed shut, but his curiosity was skyhigh. Before he knew it, they had stopped again. Clarke’s mouth found his swiftly. “Okay, we’re here but keep your eyes shut. I’ll help you out.”

He heard the sound of her door opening, a loud “sshhh,” and then a cool breeze rushed in as she threw his door open and knelt beside him. The salty air hit his nostrils at once, a gentle rushing noise reaching his ears, and he fought the urge to smile. He knew where they were. 

"Oh, princess. You shouldn't have."

"Hush, you." She was grinning, he knew it already. Then her hand lingered dangerously high on his thigh as she leaned over to unlatch the seatbelt, and he jerked unsteadily, swearing under his breath. "Sorry," Clarke giggled. She was totally not sorry. 

Before he could return the favor, she was easing him out, a hand resting over his head. He wobbled at little at first, throwing an arm out to brace himself on the car until he could somewhat get his balance. There was a low snicker, and when he managed to make out the word _Bambi,_ he held up both middle fingers in that general direction.

Clarke moved behind him. Her hands slid up from his shoulders to cover his eyes, and she pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Five steps forward,” she instructed.

Knowing they weren’t alone, Bellamy lowered his voice. “I love it when you’re bossy.” He grinned when he received the expected cuff to the head in response.

After five steps, he paused again, and waited. “Alright,” Clarke said happily. “You can open in three, two, one…” Her hands dropped away and his eyes sprang open.

 _“Surprise!”_ A group of voices chorused at him, echoed by Clarke in his ear.

He had just enough time to catch Octavia, who had launched herself at him with the loudest shriek of them all. “Happy Birthday, big brotherrrr!!” She hit him with enough force that he had to take a step back, feeling Clarke place a hand on his back to steady them both. Laughing, he hugged his sister back fiercely, taking in the scene over her shoulder.

Their little group - what he’d started thinking of as his surrogate family - surrounded him, everyone smiling wildly. Lincoln waved from a few feet away, standing next to a large cooler. Miller and Wick stood on the other side, high-fiving. Jasper had an arm around Maya, who offered a shy smile and wave. Monty and Raven stood shoulder to shoulder, looking rather pleased with themselves, next to a second cooler. 

Behind them was golden sand that sparkled in the bright sunlight, followed by miles of clear blue water as far as the eye could see.

Once Octavia let go of him, the others came forward. As Bellamy shook hands with Miller, he glanced over to see his sister and Clarke locked in a hug, swaying on the spot. The sight made his throat burn unexpectedly, and it took a long minute for him to compose himself. 

Then Octavia was bounding back over, ushering everyone closer to the water. Clarke lingered near the car, pulling out her backpack and then circling to the trunk for another small cooler he hadn’t known about. Bellamy strode over, setting aside the things in her hands and sweeping her off her feet without a word. She squeaked and clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he spun her in a circle.

“Told you I’d find you a beach,” she said into his ear, and he laughed loudly.

“Never doubted you for a second, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Two coolers were filled with drinks, both beer and soda. Clarke’s cooler carried mostly snacks, and a delicious selection of chocolate and marshmallows that she promised they would get to soon enough.

As she later explained, her mom’s friend had told her about the place when she first moved to the city for college, but she’d never really bothered to explore it until now. It turned out to be a private strip of land owned by the lady’s family. So Clarke had contacted her mother for more information, and soon gotten permission to bring the others down for the day.

Jasper had brought a frisbee along that he began to toss around with Maya, Monty and Miller, the latter pair having named themselves Team M&M, to everyone’s amusement. Octavia unveiled a volleyball, and even though there was no net that didn’t stop them for long. They lined up the coolers in the sand, quickly picking teams. 

Of course, they ended up with girls versus boys. Clarke, Octavia and Raven grinned wickedly from their side of the makeshift court, while Bellamy, Lincoln and Wick traded raised eyebrows and sighed. 

Bellamy lost track of time as the ball was tossed back and forth, with much laughter and yelling as they all got far too invested in the game. The others ended up cheering from where they had laid out several colorful beach towels. Being the competitive people they were, it wasn’t long before each group had laid out strategies for the game - both to play, and to divert attention. The girls were equally good at both - okay, maybe a little better at the latter, Bellamy mused after dragging his gaze away from Clarke’s backside for the umpteenth time.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that the blue strap that kept peeking out from under her shirt was actually her bikini top, and the thought made it incredibly difficult to focus on anything else. The mischievous looks she kept throwing over her shoulder and the purposeful sway of her hips were doing absolutely nothing to help. Twice now he’d nearly been smacked in the head by the ball, only ducking at the last second to avoid a serious headache. 

With the midday sun beating down on them and the way they were jumping around, everyone was covered in sweat all too soon. Wick was the first to lose his shirt. Of course, Raven refused to be outdone in anything, and so she stripped hers off next, leaving her in a bright red tube top and shorts.

“Motherfucker,” Wick muttered under his breath, and Bellamy coughed to cover his laugh at his friend’s obvious consternation. He could relate. His eyes immediately found Clarke, who raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

He could practically hear her voice in his head. _Your move, Blake._

_Oh, princess._ This was _so_ not going to end well, he thought ruefully - but hell if he was about to back down. Moments later his shirt dropped next to Wick’s. With a triumphant smile, Clarke’s hands went to the hem of her shirt, peeling it off and throwing it on top of Raven’s.

Bellamy lost his breath in a hurry. The straps criss-crossed behind her neck, connected to two pieces of triangular fabric that were doing their job and covering her chest - just barely. The dark blue material dipped low and ended directly under her breasts, and from there his eyes could only follow the bare expanse of her torso to the waistband of those tiny shorts. But even the slightest movement made her breasts sway enticingly, and all he could think about was doing very unseemly things to her in plain sight. 

The only other option was dunking himself underwater and staying there.

Wick clapped him on the shoulder. “Face it man. We’re screwed.”

“Yeah,” he agreed solemnly. “We are.”

Still they played, more at the girls’ insistence on finishing the game than anything else. To absolutely no one's surprise, he and Wick were essentially useless. But the girls were so focused on winning that they didn’t notice when Miller caught Bellamy’s eyes and motioned to the water. Bellamy grinned and nudged Wick, leaning over to share the idea. A gleam in his eyes, Wick passed the message along to Lincoln.

Clarke had been eyeing them all suspiciously since the moment they began whispering, and she’d just started to take a step back when Wick missed his next shot by a mile, sending the ball sailing clearly out of bounds.

He groaned and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Ladies win, fair and square.”

Octavia and Raven burst into delighted cheers, sweeping Clarke into their hug and effectively distracting her. The boys moved closer.

Seconds later, Raven was shrieking as Wick grabbed her around the waist and scooped her up, giving a war cry as he charged towards the water. Clarke’s peal of laughter rang through the air as she bent double, wiping tears from her eyes. Mid-cackle, Octavia saw Bellamy approach behind her, eyes widening. Before she could shout a warning, Lincoln had tossed her over his shoulder and thrown them both under the waves.

Smart enough to realize what was going on, Clarke whirled around as Bellamy advanced. So he tried a different tactic.

“Come on, princess," he pouted. "I just wanted to kiss you."

“Yeah, right.” Even though she was smiling, she didn’t stop moving backwards.

He grinned. “What, you don’t trust me? It’s my birthday.”

“Happy birthday babe,” she replied cheekily, still backing away. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but Miller was directly in her path. Just a few more steps…

Clarke turned to run and smacked right into him with a loud squeak. As soon as she paused, Bellamy saw his chance and grabbed her around the waist, taking her into his arms and planting his lips on hers. He swallowed her gasp, tongue thrusting into her mouth and smiling when her hands slid into his hair. At her low moan, he knew he had her.

Shifting his hands under her thighs, he picked her up, feeling her legs lock around his waist. He walked them towards the water, still kissing her. Only when the waves lapped at his feet did he unfasten his mouth from hers, taking in her dazed expression. 

“Ready to get wet, princess?” He grinned at her shock before launching himself forward with a laugh.

Clarke’s scream was cut off by the water, and when he surfaced, shaking water from his eyes, he had only moments before her body flew into his, sending him under again. He emerged laughing and sputtering, wiping his eyes to find her treading water nearby. Her long hair was knotted in wet snarls over her shoulders, and when she rose slightly he gulped at the sight of the bikini top that was doing absolutely nothing to hide her body any longer. To his satisfaction, her own gaze was wandering heatedly over him, the blue of her eyes rapidly receding.

Raven chose that moment to crash into her. “Come on, Clarke! Let’s take them _down!_ ” 

Then Wick was tugging on his arm, and the remainder of the afternoon flew by as they splashed around, taking turns throwing each other below the waves and generally just being far sillier than they had been in a long time. Clarke being impossibly wonderful as usual, she even managed to distract the others for a while so that he and Octavia had time to themselves.

His sister peeked up innocently before opening her mouth and spitting water directly into his face. Not mad in the slightest, Bellamy merely dunked her under. When she resurfaced, giggling wildly, she threw her arms around him. 

“Happy birthday, Bell,” she said again. “I’m so glad you’re happy. You deserve it.”

He kissed her cheek. “So do you."

It wasn’t long before Raven complained loudly and dragged herself ashore, shivering. As usual, Wick was right next to her. Bellamy watched as his friend wrapped her in a large towel, and for a moment, she leaned into his touch, tucking her head under his chin. The smile on Wick's face was so damn happy, he felt like an intruder. Looking away, he found Lincoln pulling Octavia out of the water as well. Sighing, he only waded further back, content to stay a little longer. When Clarke’s arms surrounded his torso, he smiled and twisted to look at her.

“Hi birthday boy,” she grinned.

“Hi back.” Blocking her body from view of the beach, he let his hand graze down her front. “God, you look like some siren right out of the stories, you know that?” 

She sucked in a breath when he lingered over the smooth plane of her stomach, but pressed closer anyways. “Are you volunteering to be the sailor I lure away?” She grinned playfully, fluttering her eyelashes.

“I would love to, except we have an audience and I’m a little shy.”

Clarke snorted and gently bit his chin. “Liar. It’s okay, though. We’ll come back here again.” She winked. “By ourselves.”

He laughed and planted kisses over every inch of her face before wrapping her in his arms. “Damn, I love you,” he murmured.

She happily nuzzled his cheek. “Love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It took them a while to muster the energy to move after drying out on the sand, but they eventually did so at Clarke’s insistence that the chocolate and marshmallows _must_ be put to use.

Stomachs filled with s’mores, they stretched out lazily until the sky began to darken. Bellamy drove them back, now that he knew the way, and Clarke was happy to let him. She was beyond thrilled with how the day had turned out so far, but she had one more surprise up her sleeve when they finally got back to his apartment.

She brought the two carefully wrapped squares into the bedroom, where Bellamy had flopped on his bed with a contented sigh. He sat up as she walked in, edging through the doorway carefully to avoid knocking the pieces anywhere. His eyes latched onto the items in her hands.

“More?” He asked in surprise. “Where did those even come from?"

"Your pantry," she admitted, grinning sheepishly at his bark of laughter. "I stuck them in there while you were in the bathroom this morning." 

"So _that's_ why you pushed me out the door." He shook his head. "Clarke, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” With a small smile, she laid them on the comforter in front of him. “Happy Birthday, Bell.”

Bellamy touched them almost reverently, already sensing the contents were fragile. “Thank you,” he said. She nodded, bouncing on her toes in anticipation. A curious light filled his eyes. “Any particular order I should open these?” He asked.

She pointed to the one tied off in a bright orange ribbon. “This one first.”

With a grin, Bellamy loosened the tie and slowly unwrapped the parcel. Clarke watched his breath catch as he took in the watercolored scene, how his fingers hovered over the reds and oranges splashed in the sky, before tracing the outline of the buildings beside the river. She'd done her best to capture the mood of that evening - the bright color palette and sparkling river echoing the complete bliss she'd felt in the moment. When Bellamy looked up, awe in his eyes, she smiled. 

“Flip it over,” she urged.

He did so, his gaze softening immeasurably when he read the title. _Best Date Ever._

There was a long moment where he looked back at the painting, his throat bobbing a few times, and Clarke could barely breathe because she was so focused on taking in his every reaction. Bellamy’s smile was dazzling when he held out a hand to her.

“C’mere,” he whispered, voice catching. Though she badly wanted to, she shook her head, only pressing a kiss to his fingertips.

“The other one too.” 

Bellamy opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it after gauging the look on her face. Carefully, he unwrapped the second item - a purple ribbon this time - and again she held her breath as the paper fell away. His eyes lit up in recognition, a wide grin curling his mouth.

“A bird’s eye view,” he murmured. She beamed, happy he’d remembered. 

It was the first drawing of hers he’d ever laid eyes on - the city skyline, as seen from above. But it was so much more than that. It was the first time they’d held a real conversation, the first time she'd realized that there might be more to this boy, the first time Clarke had thought that second chances weren’t just something she read about in storybooks. 

It was a far cry from the sketch that had fallen from her bag in the elevator, though. After discovering it recently in her stack of unfinished works, she’d decided to put her studio time to good use. After replicating the bare bones sketch on enlarged, thicker paper, she'd applied oil paints, highlighting certain buildings and landmarks with the light from a sunrise. She'd been hunched over her easel for so long her muscles had ached in protest, but it was absolutely worth it. For him, she wanted every detail to be perfect. He'd shown her so many different sides to him, even helping her discover more about herself in the process. This was her way of thanking him, when words weren't enough.

Bellamy studied it for a long time, skating over every minutia as intently as she'd hoped he would. "This must have taken you ages, Clarke." When he flipped it over and found it blank, his brows drew together. “What's it called?”

Clarke grinned. “Perspective.”

He laughed and reached out again, and this time she didn’t resist when he tugged her onto the bed beside him. He planted a sloppy, loving kiss on her cheek, and another on her mouth, before burying his face into her shoulder with a long sigh, clutching her like she might disappear. She hugged him back, relieved and thrilled and ecstatic all at once. 

“Happy birthday,” she whispered. “I love you, Bellamy.”

He might have sniffled. She wasn’t sure - and she wouldn’t ask. But then he gently set aside her gifts and cradled her face, lowering her to the pillows. 

Bellamy said _I love you_ back a hundred different ways that night, but Clarke thought it might have been best when he murmured it into her ear right before they fell asleep, so clear and certain that the words seeped into her skin and stayed there.

~~~~~~~

When she came over for a dinner date a few days later, Clarke found the painting of the river hanging in the living room. It was impossible to miss, encased in a thin black frame and positioned directly over the TV, in direct line of anyone who entered. Her heart jumped at the sight, freezing her in the doorway for a long moment. A hopelessly loopy smile tugged at her mouth.

Bellamy didn’t notice at first, already telling her about his term paper as he pulled out plates from the cabinets, before realizing she hadn’t moved an inch. Following her gaze, he smiled and set down the plates. 

Weakly, she pointed at the picture. “When did you--?”

“After work last night. It turns out Walmart is astonishingly empty and also astonishingly helpful at 2a.m.”

He grinned and strode over. Taking her into his arms, he planted a long, adoring kiss on her until she was out of breath.

Then he set his hands on her shoulders and ushered her to his room. The question got stuck in her throat when she saw her other gift hanging directly above his bed, also encased in a frame, this one thick and navy blue. Engraved at the top of the frame was one word, in cursive: _Perspective._

She turned and wrapped him in as giant of a hug as she could muster, pressing her face into his neck, her lips against his collarbone. Bellamy returned the embrace just as fiercely, lifting her to her tiptoes. When she finally pulled back, it was only to kiss him with no intention of stopping.

The food long forgotten, they tumbled onto the bed, the darkness filled with only soft murmurs and quiet sighs, completely lost in each other. Afterwards, she refused to unwind from him, and so she fell asleep to the sound of Bellamy’s heartbeat tapping out a rhythm that called to hers.

When they did awake later in the night, she slipped on one of his large shirts and Bellamy pulled on sweats, and they sat in his bed eating the lasagna he’d made earlier that day. Eventually their hunger transformed into a different sort of craving, and Bellamy whispered _Iloveyous_ into her skin as she wrapped herself around him once more.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions, decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are in the home stretch! A final sexytime to start it off, followed by life shtuff. Hope you enjoy :)

When the morning sunlight began to stream through the windows, Clarke was already awake. She’d roused earlier at the sound of rain pattering atop the AC unit wedged in the window across the room. It didn't take long for her restless mind to pelt her with thoughts, and no matter how much she snuggled into Bellamy’s solid warmth, she’d been unable to fall back into slumber. So after slipping out of bed to use the bathroom, she’d crawled back in on the opposite side of the bed, directly into his arms. 

She was careful not to wake him, though she needn’t have worried. All she got in reply was a wordless murmur as Bellamy slung a long arm over her stomach and hauled her against his chest. But even being as happily enfolded in his arms as she was, her mind would simply not stay quiet.

Clarke looked around the room, at the navy blue curtains and occasional picture that hung on the walls, next to the calendar of ancient monuments that Octavia had gotten him a while back. She remembered waking up in his bed when they’d just started dating, uncertain how to deal with the unerring sense of security she had felt even then, at such an early stage in their relationship. Now, she knew she wanted it forever. Wanted _him_ forever.

Forever was not something she ever expected to be considering during her senior year of college. And yet, in the same way he’d opened her eyes to other things, Bellamy was causing her to think about forever every chance she got. Not that he realized it.

She couldn’t deny that the possibility of him going to school elsewhere was very real; his closest acceptance so far had been to a liberal arts college about two hours away. Not horrible, by any means. People dealt with a lot worse every day, and she knew they would make it work somehow. But this, their day-to-day life, would certainly not be the same. 

She hadn’t told him about her own application to the med school here at Dalton. It had been a whim, a long shot, after finding out about his deep-seated love of the grad program that was quite literally right next door at Felton University. The campus was literally on the other side of park shared by the two schools. And the med school was just a bus ride away from the main campus, so moving wouldn’t be necessary.

It was almost too perfect to work, and yet-- _why not,_ his sister had said. So Clarke had gathered the best of her recommendations, hunkered down to write the most passionate essays she could possibly write while Bellamy was at work or off doing interviews, and just a month later found herself on the receiving end of a first-round phone call, and weeks after that, an in-person interview of her own.

The manila envelope on her dresser had arrived yesterday, complete with the conditions of her acceptance and a return envelope that awaited her matriculation fee.

Now all there was was to tell Bellamy. He didn't even know that she'd applied, let alone had interviews. It had been purposeful on her part, not wanting to jinx anything, just waiting to see if this miracle actually occurred. Now that it had, she was kind of at a loss. Plus… she didn’t know the fate of his application yet, and she didn’t want to somehow alter a decision that should be his alone to make. 

With a sigh, she turned her face into Bellamy’s worn blue t-shirt, fingers lightly stroking over his firm chest. There were times when she felt unbelievably selfish she felt for wanting what amounted to a storybook ending to this chapter of their lives. And yet, here in Bellamy’s arms, it was hard to care. This, of all things, was a damn good reason to be selfish, she thought.

Bellamy’s hand shifted to splay on her back, the rhythm of his breaths changing as he woke. Clarke smiled and looked up, fingers tiptoeing along his jaw. His eyes opened, sleepy and loving.

“Hi there.”

“Hi.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Of course he could see it all over her face. Unsure how to spill everything, she simply said, “You.”

Bellamy’s mouth lifted at the corners. “Oh yeah? What about me?”

She rolled her eyes and pressed closer, tilting her head up to nip at the expanse of his throat. A hum of pleasure vibrated low in his chest, and she swung a leg over his hip. Bellamy ducked his head until their lips met, slow and savoring. Clarke was all too content to just kiss him for hours on end, her lips trailing along his jaw to his ear, back down his neck to the chords of muscle that disappeared under his shirt. His hands moved with the same lack of urgency, skimming up her thigh along the curve of her ass before playing with the hem of her sleep shirt. 

Then he palmed her backside, giving a squeeze and pulling her more firmly against him, smiling when she let out a small mewl at the brush of his hard length against her already aching core. Bellamy continued his lazy exploration down to her collarbone, lips nudging aside the material of her shirt as he rolled them over, hovering atop her.

Clarke adored mornings like this, when neither she nor Bellamy was in a rush to go anywhere, able to simply be with each other without a pressing timeframe. The thought entered her mind that these moments might be limited soon, but rather than frown and ruin the moment, she brought his head down for a deep kiss, ignoring the clamoring in her mind in favor of Bellamy and only Bellamy. Her legs hitched up around his waist as she rolled her hips, and they both groaned at the resulting friction.

“I love waking up to you.” His voice, low and rough at her ear, made goosebumps rise on her skin. 

“Me too,” she whispered. She felt him smile before his teeth closed over her earlobe, and then she was gripping his shoulders, head sinking back into the pillow. He spent an inordinate amount of time around her ear until she was squirming helplessly, her panties already soaked at the thought of the definite bruise that he was leaving behind. 

Feeling the urge to reciprocate, she twisted her fingers into his dark curls, tugging his head up for a kiss, all the while pushing at his chest. Bellamy took her cue and let her shift them over so that she was lying atop him. His hands settled on her hips, drawing gentle patterns that only stuttered when her lips closed over his pulse and sucked hard. She felt a particular pride at the way his fingers dug into her skin, flexing repeatedly when she continued to worry her teeth and tongue over his now lively pulse.

Gradually she drew back to examine her work. “There,” she said, satisfied. “Now we match.”

Bellamy chuckled warmly. “So that was your mission, huh?”

“You started it.”

“I believe you and your lipstick were first on the scene.”

She laced her fingers over his chest and rested her chin atop them. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

He smiled brilliantly in the early morning light. “And you never will.” With that, he flipped them once more, outright laughing at her yelp when his fingers danced over her ribcage. Clarke’s surprise turned into a throaty moan when his hands slid higher to cup the globes of her breasts, thumbs ghosting over her hardened nipples.

Even as her back curved under his talented hands, she was scrabbling to remove his shirt and then her own, pressing their bodies together insistently. Bellamy’s groan sounded harshly in the crook of her neck, but before the smirk had even curled her lips, he’d scooted lower to run his mouth over her chest. Through slitted eyes she watched his mouth wrap around a pert nipple, cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard, her body bowing up off the bed. Her breath came in desperate gulps, hips greedily pushing against the fingers Bellamy was trailing overtop her damp underwear.

When she could take his teasing no longer, she shoved blindly at his sweats, using her feet to get them off entirely. His briefs proved more difficult, with the way his weight lay atop her and the way his mouth was continuing to be utterly distracting. Bellamy huffed out a laugh against her breast when she fumbled in vain for the third time.

“Need a hand?”

She stuck out her tongue. “You’re the worst.”

Deciding on a different approach, she slid her hands beneath the fabric to simply squeeze his backside, grinning smugly at the ceiling when a string of curses left his mouth. Now it was his turn to hastily remove both their remaining clothes. 

“Sneaky princess.” He was smiling even as he captured her mouth again. 

“I prefer the term efficient.”

“Is that your idea of dirty talk, Clarke?”

Bellamy laughed happily at the flush that swept her skin from head to toe, pressing butterfly kisses all over her face before returning to her lips. Clarke wrapped her arms around his shoulders, parting her knees even further and sighing into his mouth when their bodies aligned with ease. He sank inside her with one long, slow stroke that nearly made her eyes roll back. 

A rush of breath warmed her skin - Bellamy’s sigh. He dropped a tender kiss to her shoulder. “So perfect. You’re perfect.”

He set a leisurely pace, rocking against her hips in a rhythm that made the pleasure build steadily, a carefully cresting wave instead of a riptide. This was Clarke’s absolute favorite thing, the press of Bellamy’s body at her front and the mattress at her back, the feeling of being completely joined with him until they moved as one. His lips trailed across her face, their tips of their noses brushing as he kissed her slowly, intently. She smiled up at him, brushing wayward curls off his forehead and just reveling in the sway of his body into hers.

Unconsciously, her legs fell open a little wider, allowed him deeper, wrenching a noise from the back of Bellamy’s throat that made her toes curl. He began driving into her at that angle, whispering encouragement into her skin until she clutched at his back, her body seizing up as the pleasure peaked. A low cry escaped as she lost herself in the blissful feeling. Bellamy panted in her ear, and even through her haze she registered him swell inside her, hot and heavy, just before he came with a groan muffled into her shoulder. 

He didn’t bother trying to move right away, by now having learned her affection for having him sprawled atop her. After a few minutes, he turned his head to press a light kiss to the base of her throat, and she released a squeaky laugh when his hair tickled her chin. Bellamy smiled against her collarbone before lifting to his elbows, threading his hands into her hair as he kissed her softly. Her muscles clenched involuntarily around him, drawing a groan from his mouth. 

“You’re gonna have to give me a little longer, princess.”

Clarke giggled against his lips as he slid out carefully, flopping down beside her. “I’m in no rush whatsoever.”

He lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “No shift?”

“Nope. I covered for one of the other girls a couple nights back, so now I have the weekend off.”

“Class?”

Her mouth quirked. “It’s Saturday, babe.”

“Oh. Right.” Bellamy grinned, a little delirious. “Can’t really blame me for being distracted.”

“Uh huh. What are the chances you remember your work schedule?”

He pinched her side lightly. “I believe I’m not on til tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Clarke lifted up on an elbow. “So we’re both free for the next 24 hours?” 

“It looks that way.” He tilted his head, knuckles grazing her cheek. “Uh oh. I know that look. What’re you thinking?”

Clarke grinned and draped herself over Bellamy, yanking the blankets up to cover them both. “I was thinking… we should stay right here. All. Day. Long.” She punctuated each word with a featherlight kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his nose.

He sighed and gathered her close, fitting his lips to hers firmly. “It’s like you read my mind.”

~~~~~~~~~

Days like this were Bellamy’s favorite. 

He was stretched out on the couch in the girls’ apartment, utterly at peace in one of the rare moments he wasn’t consumed by school or work. His two favorite ladies were with him, now and then picking up a quiet conversation but mostly just content to hang out lazily. Octavia was curled in her usual seat in the armchair, a book open in her lap, absently twirling a pen in her hand. Clarke was on the couch with him. His head was currently resting in her lap, her fingers threading soothingly through his hair and making him burrow even closer. His eyes had shut long ago in peace, drifting in and out of wakefulness to the time of her calm breaths.

It was days like this that he let himself indulge in the idea that things could be this way for a very long time. He hadn’t yet told Clarke that he’d been accepted to his first choice - the grad program at Felton that not only offered some sorely-needed financial help, but had a great relationship with the schools in the city, its students often finding placement in the districts right after finishing their degrees. 

Oh, and there was the other small matter-- it happened to be right next door.

To his knowledge, Clarke’s closest application had been to a med school about an hour away. He hadn’t heard anything after she’d sent off the huge packet of materials, though, and since then he’d been away doing his own entrance interviews and tours. As far as he was concerned, an hour was nothing compared to the other options they faced. Yeah, their day-to-day might be more hectic, and not what he’d become used to, but that was life. They would make do. That was, of course, if she got into that school, which he didn’t really want to pester her about. She’d tell him when she was ready.

And besides, the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt blissful moments like this, the ones he was trying to collect more than ever now as time seemed to fly by faster than he was ready for.

As with most times he thought about this stuff, all he wanted was to sleep, just doze off in Clarke’s arms and hope that when he woke, he’d have a better solution. Or at least a better attitude. With a sigh, Bellamy shifted closer, feeling her hand trail lightly down his back, calming and sure. Just as he thought he might fall asleep for good, he heard Clarke curse under her breath. 

“Is today the 29th? I totally forgot, sorry Octavia. I’ll drop off the rent check tomorrow on my way back from the hospital.”

“No worries, I just gave mine this morning. By the way, Emily sent the lease renewal offer last Monday. Have you decided about that? We have to give them 60 days notice if we decide not to take it.”

Clarke’s fingers stuttered over his skin, nearly making him tense in response. “Uh… I- I saw the email,” she said quietly. “I’m just not sure if…” 

Bellamy just _knew_ she was biting her lip in thought. His own lease renewal was coming up as well, though not as soon. It had been a conversation he hoped to bring up only if he got the indication she was curious about it. But he didn’t see any need to introduce a new burden atop everything else; between school and their graduate applications and work, the moments they had together lately had been further apart, so he was too busy usually enjoying the time instead of bringing up more issues to solve.

But now, in this moment, he was dying to be inside Clarke’s brain to try and calm her increasingly panicked thoughts. She was basically gripping his hair now - unknowingly of course - as her chest rose and fell unsteadily. Still, he convinced himself not to freak out just yet, forced his eyes to stay closed and his body to relax, not wanting to make the situation worse.

Until Octavia said, “Does Bell know about the letter yet?”

 _Fuck it._ “What letter?” His eyes flew open, meeting Clarke’s startled gaze as she jumped in surprise.

Brow furrowed, she glared at Octavia. “Thanks a lot.”

His sister glared right back, unfazed. “Please. I gave you plenty of chances to tell him already. I warned you I would do it if you didn’t.”

Bellamy sat up abruptly, twisting to face them both while trying not to be alarmed by the sheer uncertainty on Clarke’s face. “What am I missing here?” He looked at Octavia, who still had her mouth pursed in thought, then back at Clarke, who was adamantly avoiding him. Her hands were clenched in her lap.

“Wait a second…” Octavia swung The Look onto him. _”Bellamy,”_ she gritted out, “have you told her your news?”

 _Ah, shit._ Clarke’s wide-eyed gaze latched onto him, and now it was his turn to swallow and rub his neck, sheepishly glancing elsewhere.

“Oh my god. You are both _impossible._ ” Octavia groaned and stood up, hands on her hips. “Alright. This has gone on long enough, and I’m done. Clarke, Bell got accepted into the graduate teaching program next door at Felton. They want him to start in the fall, partial scholarship, as long as he stays in the area to teach for a couple years after his degree.”

With a small sigh, Bellamy peeked up to find Clarke staring at him in shock. They’d discussed it, obviously, seeing as the school was his first choice thanks to their tendency to help out financially. But it hadn’t come up again recently and he figured there was no point in pushing the topic until either of them had any concrete answers to give. 

Before he could explain as much, his sister plowed forward. 

“Big brother, Clarke has been offered a spot at the med school, early admission.” 

The words struck him like a battering ram. _This_ medical school? Here at Dalton? One look at Clarke’s face told him the answer was yes. Which meant… she would be here, and he would be attending school down the street. Literally a few minutes away. Forget saving up for a car, for bus tickets, plane tickets-- they’d be in walking distance of each other for the next four years, instead of trying to arrange schedules and time holidays.

“O, it’s conditional,” Clarke began weakly, but there was no use.

“Conditional my ass. As long as you keep up your GPA for the rest of senior year, you’re in. Which, _duh,”_ Octavia replied pointedly.

Bellamy was still slightly shell-shocked by the turn of events. It took a moment for the implication to fully sink in, and then his lungs essentially forgot how to work and he was left without much air while his heart joined the Olympics.

His sister heaved a sigh, clapping her hands. “I think that settles it. Oh. And he didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to pressure you, and you wouldn’t tell him because you didn’t want to influence his decision. Because you’re both morons,” she added, albeit lovingly. “But you’re both in and you both want to stay, because I’m here too, and I’m awesome,” she declared with a wide grin.

Bellamy felt a foolishly large smile tugging at his mouth, but tried to tamp it down, wanting to give Clarke time to process the information just as well. She kept swiveling that incredulous blue gaze between him and O, as if she was afraid everything would disappear if she did so much as blink.

“My work here is done,” Octavia announced to nobody in particular. “So, I’m going to go see Lincoln for a bit. You two better be singing a different tune when I get back.”

She stuffed a few things into her bag while the two of them continued to do their best impression of mimes, opening and closing their mouths without forming any words. Then Octavia grabbed them each in a swift hug, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Opening the door, she paused and glanced over her shoulder slyly.

“By the way Clarke...” she drawled casually, and this was when Bellamy knew he was well and truly fucked, “the bottom two drawers of Bell’s dresser have been empty for weeks now. As is half his closet. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

With that, she sailed out. Bellamy felt his face overheat to obscene proportions as he stared at the door a moment longer. _You little pipsqueak, just you wait--_ The careful tap on his knee made him turn back to Clarke. She looked alternately thrilled and nervous and so, so hopeful.

“Is it true?” She asked softly. “You really got in to Felton?”

He nodded. “I found out two weeks ago. I was going to tell you, I swear, I just…”

“Couldn’t find the right time,” she finished. “Me too.”

“So… you… how--?” He kind of needed to hear it from her, for his sanity. Clarke understood instantly.

“It was sort of a spur of the moment thing,” she explained in a rush. “I wasn’t sure if I should bother applying, but then I figured why not, maybe I’d at least get some good networking in, you know? And then, one thing happened after another, I had a phone interview and then another two in-person, and then… I got the letter.” She couldn’t quite hide the disbelief in her tone. 

“The acceptance letter.”

“Yeah. I mean, like O said, there’s the GPA thing, but otherwise…” The breath left her in a rush, replaced by a shy smile. “I’m in.”

Bellamy returned her smile as brilliantly as he could, though he was unable to hide his curiosity. “When did you have the interviews?”

“While you were away visiting Chester and those other schools. It was an accident. But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, because I knew you were having your own discussions with them, and I wanted you to have as unbiased of an opinion as possible. And then when you came back, I just…” She trailed off, chewing her thumbnail until he knocked her hand away.

“I know. It’s alright,” he assured her. “I was just curious, since you have the worst poker face of all time and all.”

Clarke made a little noise of outrage and shoved him. He laughed loudly, grabbing her hands and pulling them to his chest, brushing his mouth over her knuckles. For a moment they both just sat there, basking in what it all meant. He wasn’t sure who moved first, except that she was suddenly in his arms, clinging tightly to his shoulders with a wonderfully happy laugh of her own.

“Maybe we _are_ idiots,” Clarke said, and he chuckled and buried his face into her hair. 

“Congratulations, princess. I’m so proud of you.”

“That makes two of us.” Pulling back, she smiled radiantly. “You deserve this, Bellamy. You’re going to be amazing. I know how much you wanted this.”

“So are you. You’ve been working for this forever. What did your mom say?”

Clarke squirmed in her seat. “Haven’t told her yet. I wanted you to know first.” When she looked up, her gaze was steady. “I’m staying here, Bell. It’s what I want. My life is here, with all of you. Even if you weren’t my boyfriend, I would be making the same decision. It’s what I want,” she repeated firmly, and he couldn’t resist pulling her close again to kiss her long and hard.

“Best news I’ve heard all week,” he murmured, feeling her smile against his mouth. 

Then she pulled back to cradle his cheek. “Look, just because I’m staying… it doesn’t mean things have to-- you don't have to--" Pausing, she took a deep breath. "I know what Octavia said, and why. But we don’t have to change anything. Unless you want to, of course,” she rambled. “I mean, I’m happy with you. That’s all I want. The rest is-”

“Semantics.” Bellamy grinned and claimed her mouth again. When they drew apart, he traced the line of her cheekbones, brushed his fingers over her lips, reveled in her small sigh of content. He was one hundred percent, prime time in love with Clarke Griffin, and that wasn’t ever going to change.

“Octavia wasn’t wrong about my place,” he said. “There’s space for you, if you want it. If not now, that’s okay. It’ll be there whenever you’re ready.”

She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for any hint of doubt. When she found none, a delighted smile broke onto her face and she tackled him in an ecstatic hug, laughing in relief. Bellamy returned her tight embrace, pressing kisses to every part of her he could reach until she pulled back and their mouths collided.

“I love you,” he sighed happily.

Beaming, Clarke touched her forehead to his. “Love you.” Then she raised a devious eyebrow, wiggling into his lap and planting a kiss on his lips that made his vision spin. “So, do you think it counts as ‘a different tune’ if I’m screaming when Octavia gets back?”

Bellamy grinned. “Only if it’s my name.” He swallowed her giggle with another kiss and rose from the couch all at once. With Clarke wrapped around him, he headed for her room with no shortage of laughter and love, his heart singing joyously with the possibility of what could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!! The final chapter is going to be an epilogue packed with fluff :))


	35. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're here! It's been a joy writing this story, and I can't properly express how much it means to me that you all came along for the ride. Huge huge _**thank you**_ for all the feedback, encouragement, and kudos  <3 I really can't say thanks enough. As always, I'm on Tumblr (notmylady) so come say hi if you like. Hope you guys enjoy :)

_~~Many years later~~_

Bellamy was already loosening his tie as he hopped up the front steps, taking note of the bright green leaves peeking out of the potted plants hanging on the porch. The purple water can sat on the bench, a few paint-smudged thumbprints on the handle. He grinned. Opening the door, he stepped over the _Wipe Your Paws_ doormat Clarke had insisted on buying upon first sight.

“I’m home,” he called out. He’d never tire of being able to say that that.

“Kitchen!” The reply echoed down the hallway, the walls of which had been lovingly decorated with all kinds of art. Most recent were several brightly colored crayon drawings, which were proudly displayed next to other works that they had collected along the way. 

Toeing off his shoes, Bellamy paused as always. There were only two photographs here. One was of their whole little group gathered on the sidewalk outside his and Clarke’s apartment, complete in their graduation gowns. Even though they’d graduated a year, or in some cases, two years apart, they’d all pulled on their cap and gown for a final picture. To wit, it was a ridiculous sight. 

Octavia had jumped into Lincoln’s arms at the last minute in a “wedding night” pose - her terms, not his, god he did _not_ want to think about that. It had helped, though, that Lincoln still looked at her like he couldn't quite believe his luck. The engagement ring on her finger sparkled in the sunlight, its brightness only matched by her huge smile.

Raven, meanwhile, had clambered onto Wick’s shoulders and was now hanging on for dear life as he swayed back and forth - mostly in jest. Monty and Jasper had made it their mission to carry Miller in their arms, the cast on his foot covered in Sharpie autographs - most notably, Clarke’s latest doodle of a ship. Maya had her head on Jasper’s shoulder, the camera having caught her peeking up at him instead of at the lens. She was like the eye of their hurricane, the sole source of calmness surrounded by their chaos. 

And then there was Clarke, whose back was almost entirely to the camera, her long blonde locks shining under the sun as they spilled over her blue gown. She wasn’t facing the camera because she was making out with him instead. Bellamy could still remember how he’d sidled up to her, hooking an arm around her waist and dragging his lips slowly along the smooth column of her neck right as she set the timer off. Instead of her usual reaction, which he kind of wanted on camera too (that came two tries later), she twisted in his grip and slotted her lips over his, planting a kiss on him that had him seeing stars. He’d just lifted her off her feet, mouths still firmly fitted together, when the flash of the camera froze the moment.

They’d agreed instantly that this photo was the one to frame.

His other favorite picture hung further down the hall in a thick blue frame. The sky was splashed in reds and oranges from the setting sun, reflected in the glow of the water below. Waves rolled gently up onto the sand, leaving trickles of foam in their wake. This time, it was just him and Clarke. 

She was clinging to his shoulders, her bare feet hitched around his waist, head tossed back in laughter. He was grinning foolishly, his hands braced under her thighs, his crisp button-up shirt rolled to the elbows. The sand had been warm where it gripped his bare feet, making him slip and slide in the midst of giving his new bride an impromptu piggyback ride. The flowing white fabric of her dress floated behind her, stark against the black of the nicest pair of pants he’d ever owned. Lincoln had captured the moment unexpectedly during the reception, which had been just as small and unceremonial as the wedding itself. 

Smiling, Bellamy wandered into the kitchen, where his wife currently sat on a stool at the counter, her familiar binder of paperwork open in front of her. Clarke’s foot tapped in time to the radio, the gold band on her finger winking under the kitchen lights as she set down her chipped blue coffee mug. A familiar sight, one he would never tire of. 

“Hey stranger.” Clarke used his tie to haul him close for a kiss. He would totally be lying if that wasn’t the reason he’d come around to wearing them so often. “How was your day?”

“Not bad. Though I’m a little scared to read these term papers, honestly. How about you?” 

“Pretty good. Most of the usual patients today. A couple of newcomers.” Her fingers tiptoed up his chest. “But I have this weekend off now. Switched with Harper. Group practice was the best decision I ever made.” She paused, then said with a happy grin, “Well. Second-best.” 

Bellamy chuckled and peppered her face with kisses, his lips skating over every inch of skin except her mouth until she whined and dragged him down for a proper kiss. 

When they came up for air, he sighed and dropped his forehead to hers. “Maybe we can head to the park this weekend? I’ve been missing my two princesses far too much.” 

“Something tells me you missed that tire swing more.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a win-win for everyone.”

Clarke was smiling as she leaned up to kiss the indent in his chin. “Sounds like a plan, husband.”

He looked around. “Where is the munchkin in question? She’s usually running around everywhere after being stuck in class all day.”

A different sort of smile spread across Clarke’s face as she fiddled absently with a button on his shirt, not meeting his eyes for a moment. “She’s hiding up in her room,” she finally said.

His brows drew together in confusion. “Hiding? From who?”

Clarke pursed her lips, and he recognized the expression instantly. Something had happened; good or bad, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Possibly good, from the way her eyes were twinkling. Then Clarke sighed and wound her arms around his waist.

“Our daughter got called into the principal’s office today,” she said.

“What?” He gaped for a long minute. “You’re sure,” he drawled in disbelief. “The principal’s office. _Our_ daughter. ”

“Yes. Unless there’s another Cassiopeia Blake enrolled at Woodrow Elementary that I don’t know about,” she replied dryly, arching an eyebrow. 

Bellamy pinched her thigh lightly for teasing. “Clarke, seriously. Is everything okay? What happened?” A dark thought crossed his mind. “Did someone-”

Her arms tightened knowingly even as he lunged for the doorway. “Bell, hang on,” she was laughing as she pulled him close again, wrapping her legs around him for good measure. “Babe, I swear everything’s okay.” It wasn’t her words that made him pause. It was her easy laughter. 

He glared. “Princess, you better explain soon or I’m gonna be-”

Clarke’s hand covered his mouth. “I’m getting there,” she said softly. “Cassie’s fine, don’t worry. No one did anything to her.” She couldn’t hide her smirk a single bit. “It was actually the other way around.”

Now he was really curious. Of the two of them, Clarke was usually more of the disciplinarian, seeing as his daughter had had him thoroughly wrapped around her little finger since birth. And yet, his wife was positively glowing at the moment. So now he waited and watched Clarke watch him, before she rolled her eyes and huffed out a laugh.

“Apparently Thomas Littleton said something she didn’t quite agree with, and so… she stomped on his foot. Twice. And then kicked his knee.”

Bellamy lasted approximately one and a half seconds before bursting into uproarious laughter, his head thrown back in sheer, unrestrained glee. The sound echoed off the walls, loud enough that he was pretty sure their neighbors could hear it. _Our daughter, the mini superhero._ When he finally paused for breath, Clarke’s cheeks had a touch of pink as she grinned back.

“Thought you’d find that entertaining. Maybe you want to go tell your daughter the same thing? She thinks you’re going to be mad. Hence, the hiding.”

He barked out another laugh, then grabbed her in a long kiss, biting her bottom lip a little. “I love you,” he breathed, still chuckling. “ I _really_ fucking love my life with you.”

“Right back at you husband,” she whispered.

Bellamy tugged her with him as they took the stairs two at a time, marching into the brightly decorated bedroom where their little girl was seated on the bed, her blonde head buried in a storybook instead of the notes next to her. Without preamble, he scooped Cassie off the mattress and pressed noisy kisses all over her face until she squirmed and squealed in his arms.

“Daaaaaddd,” she whined. “Stop that!”

“Told you he wouldn’t be mad, sweetie,” Clarke said from the doorway.

Nuzzling Cassie’s cheek one last time, Bellamy held up a hand to her. “High five, princess munchkin. I hope you showed Tommy who’s boss.”

She slapped her little hand against his, then wrinkled her nose. “He hates being called Tommy.”

Bellamy snorted and flicked his eyes at Clarke, who was shaking her head. “Even better.” Finally setting Cassie down on the bed again, he knelt to her level, grasping her knees. “As much as I love you standing up for yourself, you know you’ll have to apologize, right kiddo?”

“I know,” she said sullenly. “Mom told me already.”

“Well I’m telling you again. I promise, it’s the right thing to do.” He tweaked her nose. “And if he’s rude again, then you just let your mom know and she’ll help you stomp on his other foot.”

“Bell!” 

Cassie giggled in delight, and he tossed a grin over his shoulder as Clarke finally came forward, yanking him up by the arm. “Alright, enough of you two troublemakers.” Her voice was full of the undisguised affection that always made his heart take flight. Then she aimed a knowing look at their baby girl. “Cass, I know you have homework, don’t you?”

“Math.” Their daughter’s glum expression was one he’d seen all too often on Clarke. It took some effort to stifle his laugh, though he didn’t bother hiding his wide smile. She noticed it all the same. Kneeling, she tapped Cassie’s knee gently.

“Tell you what,” she bargained, “you finish that up before eight and maybe dad and I will take you out for ice cream, alright sweetie?”

Cassie brightened instantly. “Can Aunt ‘Tavia come too?”

Two pairs of blue eyes turned to him, one beseeching and one expectant. He grinned. “I’ve never known her to turn down ice cream. I’ll call her, maybe they can bring Kai now that he’s feeling better.”

“Yaaayyy!” Cassie cheered. “Sprinkles and waffle cones?”

“Sprinkles and waffle cones,” Clarke agreed, then held up her hand, pinky stretched out. “Pinky swear?”

A tiny finger curled around hers. “Pinky swear.”

“That’s my girl.” After she ruffled Cassie’s hair, Bellamy bent forward to kiss her forehead again, tweaking her nose. Then Clarke took his hand and pulled him from the room, easing the door shut.

He couldn’t help himself from kissing the daylights out of her the second they were in the hallway. She squeaked in surprise but quickly recovered to lock her arms around his neck until they were both out of breath. 

Then he bent and whispered conspiratorially, “So should I be writing those wedding invitations already, or--”

Clarke covered his laughter with another deep kiss, even though she was grinning wildly all the same. 

“All things considered I think we did pretty good, you and me,” he murmured against her lips.

“Yeah, Bell,” she smiled up at him. “We did good.”

~~~~~~~~

As they wandered around the kitchen to get dinner going, he noticed the empty bottle of wine by the trashcan. “We’ve been out of your favorite for what, two weeks? I keep forgetting. Maybe we can pick up some tonight?”

Clarke made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. He took that to be her agreement, though it sounded a bit off. Her head was currently hidden behind the fridge door as she dug around for ingredients. Before he could see for himself, she popped out with a cheery grin.

“Oh! I almost forgot, we got another postcard today.” She pointed to the counter, where a small card peeked out from under her binder. 

“Nice. Where’s the dynamic duo this time?” 

“Wisconsin, apparently. Wick took her to a Packers game.” They both grinned at that. Wick and Raven had embarked on a cross-country road trip, determined to hit every state and cross yet another thing off their bucket lists. Bellamy pulled out the small card, an image of a snow-covered football stadium filled with foam cheeseheads. 

“Good man. Has he decided where he’s going to propose yet?”

Clarke rolled her eyes with a little huff. “Two days ago it was Seattle, yesterday it was San Diego, and today I got a text that said Grand Canyon.” Giggling, she spooned butter into the pan. “I told him he should just do it in Vegas, get it all over with in one fell swoop.”

Bellamy laughed and leaned against the counter. “Not a bad idea.”

“I mean, it’s Raven. She’s not exactly going to wait around, you know? I like to think she’d appreciate the efficiency.”

“True. Well I think any location will be fine as long as he does it without injuring her,” he muttered, thinking of his own hapless proposal. 

Clarke’s laughter chimed through the kitchen as she came to wind her arms around his waist. “It’s not your fault I dropped the plate,” she crooned, smiling widely. 

“Actually it was, seeing as I had just said _I want to marry you_ at 9p.m. on a Wednesday night while we were in our PJs! What normal person does that?” The words had just… blurted out, ripped from his body with absolutely no foresight and definitely no finesse.

Giggling, she kissed his palm lightly. “Well, I wouldn’t want to marry a normal person, if that’s the case. Besides, I said yes about a hundred times afterwards, in case you’ve forgotten. It wasn’t that bad, babe.”

“You couldn’t wear the ring for three days because of the band-aids!” 

Clarke snorted. “But I never took it off after that, did I?” A rather cocky grin tugged at his mouth, and she leaned up to kiss his jaw. “See? Not all bad. Though it’s entirely your fault that I barely use that dishwasher.”

Bellamy chuckled. It was true. They’d sort of made a habit of doing the dishes together in the evening; it was just a moment for the two of them in the midst of the daily chaos of their lives. Not to mention the memories that accompanied it were particularly wonderful.

Clarke tugged at his tie with an impish grin. “You got the girl.”

He leaned down to kiss her. “Damn right I did.”

~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, he was running around outside the ice cream shop with his nephew on his shoulders while Lincoln paid for the ice cream. His sister and Clarke were seated in the bed of Lincoln’s truck, Cassie curled up on Octavia’s lap with her own dessert already halfway gone. As soon as Kai saw the chocolate cone in Lincoln’s hand, Bellamy felt a great tug on his hair.

“Uncle Bellyyyyy!”

He laughed. “I see it, bud.” He made a beeline for the truck, setting Kai down next to his mother. The boy’s huge dark eyes were fixated solely on the ice cream, reaching out his small stubby hands eagerly. Lincoln handed it over with a grin, pulling him into his lap while giving Bellamy his cup of strawberry shortcake. 

Cassie had all but inhaled her vanilla cone, complete with sprinkles, as promised. She’d gotten his sweet tooth, as they’d found out very quickly. When a tiny burp escaped, Clarke laughed and reached out to ruffle her hair.

“Next time you’ll share, won’t you?” She asked.

Biting her lip in a perfect imitation of Clarke, their daughter nodded. 

“She knows all about sharing,” Octavia interrupted. “The other she day gave Kai one of her favorite coloring books, didn’t you?” Octavia jiggled Cassie on her lap, eliciting a small squeal. “You’re gonna make a great big sister, honey.”

Bellamy’s heart stopped. 

His whole world narrowed to two words - _big sister_ \- until his heart restarted like a juggernaut, beat so hard he thought everyone could hear it. Octavia had clapped a hand over her mouth, wide eyes telling him everything he needed to know. Stunned, he swiveled to look at Clarke, who was frozen in place, her spoon halfway to her lips as she snuck a bite of his strawberry ice cream.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Sh-- sugarcakes, I’m sorry.” That was his sister, doing her damnedest not to sully their kids’ ears.

Lincoln stood. “Hey guys, want to see my latest project?” At the answering yells of delight, he smoothly scooped up both kids and headed to the front of the truck with a pointed glance at Octavia. She swallowed and grasped Clarke’s elbow, mouthing _sorry_ again. Clarke let out a stunned little laugh.

“It’s fine,” she managed.

Octavia swung her gaze to him. “Don’t be mad, okay? The only reason she told me is because I barged in on her holding the damn test. She didn’t have a choice. I swear.”

“O,” Clarke’s voice was soft, but firm. “It’s okay. Really.”

Octavia sighed, then headed after the others, glancing worriedly over her shoulder every few steps. Bellamy stared at Clarke. She was chewing her lip, a little sheepish, but mostly just in the beginnings of excitement. The truth was written all over her face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to speak despite the warm glow that was beginning to take over his whole body. 

Right as Clarke stood up, his legs remembered how to work and he was by her side, reaching for her hand. Her fingers wove tightly with his, the other hand rising to cradle his cheek.

“I only took the test a couple days ago. O came over to get the kids movies she’d left over the weekend and saw me sitting on the bed with it. I… I wanted to confirm it at the clinic before I told you. Just in case.” Clarke smiled then, bright and beautiful. “Harper got the results today. It’s official. I was going to tell you tonight. Promise.”

Bellamy sucked in a deep breath, his mouth stretching into a brilliant smile to mirror hers. They kissed, soft and chaste, his hand cupping the back of her neck. Then he slid to his knees, touching his forehead to her belly in quiet reverence. Clarke threaded her fingers into his hair, stroking gently.

When he stood again, he promised, “I’m gonna stock our mini-fridge with watermelon slices again. And all the Nutella I can find.”

Clarke laughed, linking her arms behind his back. “I can’t promise I’ll have the same cravings as last time. Every baby is different.”

He pulled her into a long hug, burying his face into her shoulder. _Baby._ They were having another baby. An ecstatic breath rushed out onto her skin as he held her impossibly tight. 

“Whatever you want. I’ll get it.”

Clarke pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, then his forehead, his nose, finally on his lips. “I already have everything I want.”

~~~~~~~~~

That night, Clarke stood in the doorway, watching Bellamy lay an already half-asleep Cassie on the bed. He pressed a loving kiss to her forehead before pulling the covers over her small form, then tiptoed over to where she stood. She flipped on the small night light.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl,” she whispered, shutting the door.

Bellamy swung an arm around her as they padded down the hall. “What a day,” he murmured, and she smiled and snuggled into his chest. When they entered their room, the painting greeted her on first sight, as it always did, hanging over their bed like it had for so many years, ever since she’d given it to him on his birthday. Her other gift, a scene of their first official date, was displayed above the vanity mirror that sat atop their dresser. That had been her idea. She liked seeing it every morning as she got ready for work. 

Yawning, she changed into her sleep shorts and one of Bellamy’s old T-shirts that was now effectively hers. When she turned, Bellamy was smiling from where he was stretched out on the bed. She crawled up beside him, pulling his head up for a long kiss before scooting back against the pillows.

“Go ahead,” she grinned. “I know you want to.”

Eyes alight, Bellamy flipped her shirt up slightly and nuzzled his cheek into her belly. “Hey little one,” he whispered, and she giggled, curling down to press her lips to his hair before stretching back to get comfy against the pillows. Ever solemn, Bellamy began to relate the story of Halcyone and Ceyx, one of Clarke’s favorites. She’d heard it countless times before, but even now it made her warm and fuzzy, her eyes drooping with the lilt of his voice.

Absently patting her stomach, she mumbled, “Your dad’s such a romantic." Bellamy’s low chuckle was the last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep entirely.

Sometime later, she was woken by a dip in the mattress and a small hand grasping her elbow. Lightning lit up the sky outside their window as she rolled over to meet Cassie’s wide blue eyes. “Hey baby. Can’t sleep?”

There was a slow shake of her head. Clarke patted the blanket with a grin. “Come on up.” 

Cassie smiled, the gap in her teeth making a brief appearance before she clambered up to wedge herself between Clarke and Bellamy’s still sleeping form. He was sprawled on his stomach, his face half hidden in the pillow. Carefully, Cassie’s tiny fingers touched her belly.

“My brother’s in there?” She asked in wonder.

“Or sister. We don’t know which yet.” 

“Will she look like me?” 

“Maybe. Or he might look like dad.” Bellamy had been unable to hide his glee at the fact that Cassie was essentially Clarke in miniature form, outwardly at least. Clarke figured she was owed at least one mini-Bellamy in return.

“Can you use your machine to take a picture and find out?” Cassie asked eagerly. Clarke smiled. Her daughter had come to work with her enough to have her curiosity peaked by now.

“Later. Right now he or she is barely the size of a peanut.” She tapped her nose. “Just like you once were.”

“I can’t believe I used to fit in there.”

She laughed softly and kissed her cheek. “That’s what your dad used to say all the time too. He used to talk to you, you know. Tell you stories.”

“Really? Can I try?”

“Maybe later, hmm? You and dad can pick a story tonight, from that book he got you for your birthday last year. I bet he’d love that. You know how much he adores mythology.”

Together, they whispered, _"Nerd."_

“I heard that.” They both looked over at Bellamy’s sleepy mumble. His eyes opened briefly, only to wink. Cassie giggled as he swung a long arm over them both and pulled them closer. Clarke fell asleep again to the sound of rain pattering on the windowsill, Bellamy’s arm snugly around her back and Cassie’s small hand gripping hers.

~~~~~~~~~

Her morning alarm resulted in twin groans from the left side of the bed. Cracking an eye open, Clarke smiled deliriously at the view of her husband and daughter wrapped together, her smaller frame enfolded within his. The sight filled her with an unbearable love for the two of them all over again; it never ceased to amaze her that this was her life. 

Leaning over, she softly kissed Cassie’s forehead, then Bellamy’s full mouth. His eyes opened, finding hers, and he smiled. 

When her alarm beeped again, Cassie mumbled a protest. “Five more minutes, mom.”

“Yeah, five more minutes, mom,” Bellamy repeated plaintively, and Clarke relented with a laugh, hugging them both close.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Five more minutes.”

When the alarm finally could not be ignored, Clarke pulled Cassie up beside her. “Alright, time to get ready for school, sweetie.” Yawning, Cassie pouted. “Come onnn,” she wheedled. “Isn’t today the day you’re going to make a birthday gift for Aunt ‘Tavia in art class?”

Her daughter’s sleepiness vanished, and she was bouncing down the hall in seconds. Bellamy’s laugh sounded in her ear as his arms slid around her waist, pulling her back down to the pillows.

“Bell--”

“Five more minutes,” he grinned, nuzzling her neck. She sighed and turned her head to kiss him, lingering. His fingers stroked softly over her stomach.

Smiling, she whispered, “You want to name him Gus, don’t you?”

One eye peeked open. “Maybe.”

Clarke hummed and placed her hand over his. “Okay. But if it’s a girl, I was thinking Aurora.” Both of his eyes flew open at that, and he shifted to hover over her, a little disbelieving. She cradled his cheek. “We could call her Rory for short.”

Bellamy’s voice was thick with emotion when he said, “You sure?”

She nodded shyly. “We could even keep Rory if it’s a boy,” she offered, and he chuckled, eyes shining. “What? It’s totally a boy’s name. Like that guy in those episodes of Doctor Who you made me watch all through grad school.” She poked his shoulder with a grin.

Bellamy kissed her sweetly, lazily, lovingly, and for a long moment the rush of the world disappeared, and it was just the two of them again, wrapped in each other. He rested his forehead against hers while her palms flattened against his back, urging his weight firmly atop her. 

“Cassiopeia and Aurora,” he laughed softly. “The school is going to think we’re such hippies.”

“Let them say that to my face,” she declared.

Bellamy grinned wildly. “So you can stomp on every foot in the office?” 

Clarke giggled and wound her arms around his neck. “If that’s what it takes.”

They remained there in their little bubble of bliss for a few more minutes, until the call of _“Daaaaaddd!”_ echoed down the hall. 

Clarke tapped Bellamy’s cheek. “That’s your cue, husband.”

He simply kissed her again, smiling at her tiny gasp, his tongue diving into her mouth as his hands twined with hers against the mattress. She moaned softly, legs already rising to bracket his hips.

_“Moooommmmm!”_

Laughing, they broke apart. Bellamy rose first, extending an arm to pull Clarke up as well. 

Hand in hand, they headed downstairs to start a new day.


End file.
